History Is Made At Night
by genevra
Summary: When Tony kills Jeanne after she reveals a secret, it's game on. If the guilt doesn't kill him, La Grenouille might. But with Ziva on his side, how can he lose?
1. Eyes Full of Guilt and Sorrow

**NCIS**

**History Is Made At Night**

**A/N:** This is a story I wrote about a year ago that I never got around to publishing. I really feel like I need to get back into writing so I'm posting this now. I have a couple of chapters already written but that doesn't mean this will be updated regularly or that the updates will be this long. I'm kind of bad like that ;-) But in my defense, I do work full-time among other things. Excuses, excuses. The idea came to me and it wouldn't leave. It's been written and re-written umpteenth times. I have to admit I like it better now than I did when I wrote it so either I'm better than I think or my taste has gone downhill. Just joking. Anyway, please enjoy.

**Summary:**When Tony kills Jeanne after she reveals a secret, it's game on. If the guilt doesn't kill him, La Grenouille might. But with Ziva on his side, how can he lose? Slightly AU, set after Season Four.

**Disclaimer:**I do not own nor am I affiliated with NCIS in any way, shape or form.

**Chapter One:** Eyes Full of Guilt and Sorrow

Tony had just sat down to eat his dinner. He lifted the steaming hot pizza up to his mouth and practically salivated in delight when the doorbell rang.

"Oh come on. You have got to be kidding," he groaned. The doorbell rang again and he gazed longingly at the pizza as he laid it back down in the box. He slowly meandered from the kitchen to the front door. He swung the door open and was greeted by a smiling face. "Jeanne. What are you doing here?"

"Not happy to see me, Tony?" she asked sweetly.

"I'm just a little surprised," he answered, avoiding the question. Something about her alarmed him and if he was honest, he wasn't happy to see her. She had given up on them and he had moved on.

"Aren't you going to ask me in?" she asked.

"Sure. Come in," Tony said. He stepped to the side, unblocking the door, and Jeanne quickly swept in past him. "Do you want to sit down?"

"No. I'm sure I won't be here long," she answered.

"Can I take your coat then?" he asked.

"What I have to say really won't take that long," she replied.

"Then say it," he suggested.

"I know I said in my note that I wasn't coming back but I did a lot of thinking when I was in Africa and I wondered if maybe I made a mistake," she replied. "I missed you and I missed us. I wonder if maybe I wasn't a little hasty in leaving."

"Really?" he asked. He smiled at her, hoping that the smile made it to his eyes. "I missed you too, Jeanne."

"But not enough to come after me," she noted.

"I didn't know where you were," he shrugged. "When you told me to choose, you didn't really give me a choice. You were there, wherever there was, and I was here."

"Have you moved on?" she asked.

"Not to someone else but I have moved on," he replied.

"Oh, I see," she said. She didn't look quite as upset or as desperate as someone who wanted a second chance should. "Do you think we could get back there though? I mean, in time?"

"Maybe. I don't know," he answered. He looked thoughtful for a second. "You know, you left your diary here. I think it's in my study. I'll go and get it before I forget."

It was a pretty clumsy story as cover stories go but he had a gut feeling that he needed back-up and he needed it now. There had been a threat made against Jenny Shepard's life that day and his gut was telling him that Jeanne's appearance wasn't a coincidence. How she factored into it, he wasn't sure, but she certainly wasn't here to get him back.

He pulled out his phone and dialled it was he walked down the hallway to his study. He hung up after a quick conversation with Ziva and then made a big show of rifling through the middle drawer of his filing cabinet.

"I suspect you have help on the way," Jeanne said from behind him. She leaned against the doorjamb looking like Grace Kelly with her in a perfect chignon and her trench coat firmly belted.

"I know you're not here to get me back, Jeanne," he answered. "Jenny Shepard's car was blown up today, just like mine was. She wasn't in the car when it exploded but her driver was. I don't believe that you being here is a coincidence."

"When your car was blown-up, someone was after me," she reminded him.

"Yeah but someone left an expensive bottle of Merlot on Jen's doorstep, the kind your father likes to drink. I suppose that's another coincidence?" he asked.

She chuckled and shook her head, "Do you think I had something to do with it?"

"Your father knows all the right people and you may have been just angry enough about what she did to you to try to kill her. So yeah. I think you had something to do with it," he replied.

"And now I'm here to finish the job, is that right? First get rid of Director Shepard and then you. Is that what you're saying?" she asked, cocking her head at him. "You know you royally screwed me over, Tony _DiNardo._ I actually thought I had a future with you."

"If it's any consolation, I wanted one with you," he answered as earnestly as he could.

"If that were true, you would have come after me but you didn't. You chose to stay at NCIS," she pointed out.

"That's not fair. They're my family. You don't just leave your family," he argued.

"You don't just lie to the supposed love of your life and then not come after them," she countered. "What you did was wrong."

"I know it was wrong. Believe me, Jeanne, I am sorry. But you hurt me too," he said.

"Not as much as you hurt me," she whispered. She slid her hand into her pocket and pulled out a gun. Her eyes seemed to practically come alight with anger. If looks could kill, he would have been dead before she could have pulled the trigger. It wasnt just her eyes that were angry, it was her entire being. Mind, body and soul. "And you're not sorry enough."

"Jeanne, put the gun down. There has to be some other way," he said. He was not to proud to beg for his life. Tony turned to his left and backed away so he was close to the wall. He held his hands up and tried to stay calm.

"Shut up," she yelled. She waved the gun at him. "I'm holding the gun and believe me, I know how to use it. You think I didn't know who you were all along? My father is an arms dealer with contacts in major government and intelligence organisations all over the world."

"Then why go along with it?" he asked. He had a feeling his face had paled and his throat was definitely dry.

"Because I needed to get close to you so I could get close to someone you know," she replied.

"So you are after Jenny," he stated. "Why?"

"I'm not saying a word," she answered.

"You're going to kill me anyway so you may as well tell me," he pointed out. "Why do you want the Director?"

"Because she keeps getting in the way," Jeanne replied.

"And I guess it's a 'get her before she gets you' thing," Tony elaborated.

"Very good. You are such a talented agent," she beamed. "She is smart and driven and would do anything to take my father down. And thanks to your sloppy work, we now know everything we need to know to take her down."

"You aren't going to kill her, are you? You have something else planned," he stated. "You knew she wouldn't be in the car when it blew-up. It was a message."

"Like I said, you are a very good agent. We have everything we need to take her down, painfully and slowly," she grinned maliciously. "I'm just sorry you won't be there to see it happening."

"Neither will you when Gibbs finds out what you're doing and what you've already done," he spat.

"I'm not worried about Gibbs," she said, shaking her head. "I am a little scared of Ziva though."

"You should be. She's a trained assasin. And when she finds out that you killed me, she will make sure that you are good and dead," he snapped.

"Don't worry about little old me," she taunted. "There is no way that Gibbs or your Ziva will ever know what happened here."

"They will know. They'll find out," he told her seriously. He challenged her with his eyes but she rolled hers back at him. She walked over and kissed him hard on the lips before taking ten steps back. She aimed the gun at Tony's head but her aim was off and the bullet lodged itself in the wall by his head. She'd obviously been planning on just the one shot and she lowered her gun. Before she could aim again, Tony pulled his own gun out of his pocket and shot her three times in the stomach. She looked at him in shock and sunk to the floor, her hands pressed against her front. He was kneeling at her side in a second and had his own hands pressed against her wounds.

"You shot me," she gasped. She chuckled lightly at the irony and he could see the pain constricting her features.

"You tried to kill me," he shot-back. He pressed hard against her front but the blood was seeping through too quickly. "I'm sorry, Jeanne."

"Sorry?" she asked. Her eyes were burning with tears. She reached up and stroked his face. "I'm sorry, Tony. I really loved you. Love you, I mean. I love you and we could have had a future."

"You can survive this. People get shot all the time. But we will never have a future," he said. "We never had a future."

"My father is going to kill you," she gasped. She groaned and her body began to shake with the shock and the pain. She gulped greedily, trying to suck in as much air as she could. She coughed and he saw the telltale smear of blood on her lips.

"Don't give up, Jeanne," he begged. He was not a hard man and despite everything, he did not want her to die. "Don't die on me."

"It's too... late. I... I have nothing... nothing left. You took... the last thing I had," she sputtered. Her glassy eyes locked with his as she took one last shuddering breath.

His hands were still pressed against her abdomen. He lifted her up into his arms and was met with a wet mess. The bullets had gone straight through her body. There was no way she could have survived and it was his fault. His agents instincts, his keep yourself alive instincts, had kicked in and he had killed the woman he used to love.

* * *

Ziva lay on the couch watching television. She did not have the same peaceful feeling she normally had when she was winding down after a case had been closed. In fact what she felt was the same feeling she had had when Tony had been undercover as Tony DiNardo and the team had watched 'his' car blow-up. She had been restless all day, restless and on edge. It was as if she was waiting for something to happen and even the mindless drone of 'How I Met Your Mother' (not a particular favourite) could take her mind off it.

The show finished and the next came on. That was when Ziva finally closed her eyes and felt sleep come over her. She had been out only five minutes before her mobile phone rang. She sighed and flipped it open without checking the caller I.D.

"David," she said.

"Ziva? It's Tony," he said. He had said only those three words but already she knew. This was the phone call she had been waiting for all day.

"Tony, what's wrong?" she asked. She snapped off the couch and was searching around for her coat. "Where are you?"

"I'm at home," he answered. "Can you come over?"

"I'll be right there," she said. She gave up trying to find her jacket and found a puffy khaki vest.

"Ziva..." he said.

"Yes, Tony," she replied. She shrugged one arm into the vest and then held the phone between her shoulder and her ear as she shrugged the other arm in.

"Just hurry. And be careful," he whispered.

Ziva let herself into Tony's house quietly. There was a light on in the kitchen but the rest of the house seemed to be dark. She immediately tightened her grip on her gun as she carefully peered around the corner.

"Tony?" she called out.

There was no answer. She made her way across the living room and peered down the hall. There was a slither of light coming from the end room, his study. Ziva ran quickly down the hall. She paused and pressed her ear against the door. There was no sound coming from the room. Gingerly and quietly, she opened the door. She swung herself around and found herself training her gun on Tony. He was kneeling on the floor, a look of utter disbelief on his face.

"Tony, what happened?" she asked. She holstered her gun and went to kneel beside him.

His hands, clothes and the carpet were covered in blood. The bullet-ridden body of Jeanne Benoit was cradled on his lap. He looked up at her, his eyes wide, and his face fell.

"I killed her," he answered. He wiped his hand across his face leaving a streak of blood. "I killed Jeanne."

* * *

Gibbs was there ten minutes later with Ducky, McGee and the members from another Major Case Response team led by the imposing but very brilliant Agent Decker. They moved quickly to the study.

Ziva left Tony sitting at the kitchen table and went to talk to Gibbs. She stuck her head into the room and waved Gibbs over. He and McGee were standing just inside the door watching the proceedings.

"How's DiNozzo going?" Gibbs asked.

"He's still in shock. I took his statement," she answered. She gave him a quick rundown of what had happened. "Gibbs, can I ask you a question?"

"You're going to anyway," he pointed out.

"Why are you doing all of this if this was an act of self defence?" she asked.

"Until ten seconds ago we didn't know this was self-defence," he reminded her. The tone of his voice let her know that he never thought it was anything different. "Someone attempted to kill one of our officers, David. Not to mention made threats against our director."

"Of course," Ziva replied. She looked around and saw a pile of evidence bags. She marvelled at how quickly the team had worked. Jeanne's body had already been placed in a generic black body bag and was on a stretcher, ready to be wheeled out. The room was a bigger mess than she had previously noticed. There was a large puddle of blood in the middle of the room. There were papers strewn across the room and little bits of plaster dust had settled on the floor. "What a mess. Poor, poor Tony."

They moved out into the hallway to give Decker and his team some room. Ducky and Palmer wheeled the stretcher out, ready to accompany the body back to the hospital morgue. NCIS wanted to wash their hands of the tragedy as quickly as possible. The team moved against the walls so that the stretcher could pass through. Upon seeing Ziva, Ducky stopped to join in the conversation.

"How is young Anthony doing?" he asked.

"He will not admit it but I can tell he is rattled. I do not know if it has really hit home yet," she answered.

"It'll hit," Gibbs said.

Ziva looked up at him and cocked her head. Ducky nodded emphatically and opened his mouth but unable to deal with one of his tirades Ziva quickly went on.

"I know, Gibbs. I'll be there. He will not have to go through it alone," she proclaimed.

"I know you will be," he answered. He looked at his watch. "Give us another half an hour and then I reckon we'll be done here."

"They work fast," Ziva said again. "I'd best go check on Tony."

"Give him our love," Ducky called out as they resumed wheeling the stretcher.

"And tell him we're thinking of him," McGee added.

Gibbs walked over to Ziva and lowered his head to her ear.

"Just take care of him, David," he said.

"I intent to," she said back.

"Intend, Ziva. The word is intend," Gibbs sighed.

* * *

Ziva sat on the edge of the bathtub as Tony showered. She stayed there even when the tap stopped and she had handed him his towel.

"Have you ever killed someone you loved?" he asked when he had dried himself. He stood before her with a white towel wrapped around his waist. His hair was dripping and left droplets on his shoulders.

"Yes," she whispered. "It is not something I enjoyed."

"Really? Ziva David, the great Mossad killing machine actually had a kill or two she didn't enjoy. Who knew?" he spat. Ziva tried to keep her expression neutral because she knew that it was just Tony's way of dealing with the night. She could not let him know when and if he had hit a nerve. "All those guns and knives and weapons. What are you trying to prove? Are you trying to get Daddy's approval? Because from what I hear about his children, unless you're already dead he couldn't really care less about you. I have to say, I'm surprised you care what he thinks. You are always so cold and distant and emotionally closed-up. You don't feel anything about anything and you don't care about anybody."

"That is enough," Ziva ordered. She had never heard so much anger or bitterness come from her own mouth and in only three words, but he deserved it. "Tony, you have already killed someone you loved tonight. I will not let you lose a friend too."

"That is so generous of you," he replied. Ziva raised herself up to her full height and glared at him. He returned the look. They held the electric gaze for at least a minute before Ziva broke the silence.

"You should put on some clothes, Tony," she suggested. "I would not like you to get pneumonia."

"I wouldn't like it either," he agreed. "Hey, Ziva..."

"Tony, I know you didn't-"

"I was just going to say could you please close the door behind you," he interrupted. He felt her recoil next to him and when he looked at her, he saw that her cheeks were red as if she had been slapped across the face. When Ziva didn't move, he brushed past her and started rummaging around in his closet. He went back into the bathroom and Ziva pushed past him, slamming the door behind her.

Tony stood staring dumbly at the door. He immediately felt bad for what he had said, even if deep down he knew it was true. He sank to the floor, still in his towel, and covered his face in his hands. He was the one who had made a mistake and he had no right to bring Ziva down too. After all, she had come to him when he called.

* * *

Ziva sat on the edge of Tony's bed and waited for him. It wasn't long before he left the bathroom clothes in a light blue t-shirt and blue-grey track pants. His eyes flickered in surprise when he saw her.

"You're still here."

It was a statement, not a question. Ziva nodded.

"I promised Gibbs I would not leave you," she said. Tony took a seat next to her.

"I didn't mean to kill her," Tony said.

"I know," she replied.

"I just aimed the gun and shot. The next thing I know she's bleeding out all over the damn carpet," Tony continued. "I didn't mean to kill her."

"It happens," Ziva replied, keeping her voice light. She didn't want to make Tony feel any worse than he already did.

"She told me loved me right before she died," he continued.

"She was just trying to make you feel guilty," Ziva said. Tony looked up. Ziva braced herself for an angry onslaught but he gave her a sad and guilty look.

"I'm sorry. For what I said," he said quietly.

"It's probably true," she said. "Some of it, anyway.

"Doesn't mean I had a right to say them," he replied. "Ziva, just please forgive me."

"You are forgiven," she said in a tone he couldn't quite read. She refused to meet his gaze.

He slid a finger under her chin and tilted her up.

"Look me in the eyes and tell me I'm forgiven," he demanded softly. Ziva closed her eyes. When she opened them, Tony could see the hurt in her eyes and it surprised him and saddened him to see it there and to know that he had put it there. He absent-mindedly stroked the side of her face. "Oh, Ziva."

"I do forgive you," she said finally and she meant it. "And the part about me not caring is not true though. I care a great deal for you."

She removed his hand from her face and stood up. It was difficult for her to do. How she wanted to stay there with Tony's hand on her face and under his unwavering gaze. But it was wrong. Especially when his ex-lover was currently lying dead in his study.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"I'm going to see if they are done," she answered. "Will you be okay in here for a moment?"

"Yes. I'm a big boy. I can take care of myself, ninja girl," he answered. He paused for a moment. "Ziva?"

"Yes, Tony," she replied. Her tone was patient.

"I don't know if I can stay here tonight," he said. She nodded.

"We will go back to my place. Pack your trash," she said with a half-smile. "I will be back in a little while."

Tony packed a bag quickly. As he did, he heard voices and footsteps traipsing past his door. Soon there was silence. He opened the door only to be met with darkness. He could hear the rest of the team out near the front door and he went towards them but compulsively, he turned around and walked up to the study. He put his hand on the door handle and left it sitting there.

"I would not go in there if I were you," he heard Ziva say behind him. He turned around to find her standing in the doorway to the living room lightly framed in the light from the other room. She looked at him both sadly and knowingly. "She is not in there anymore. Ducky had her transported to the hospital morgue."

"Not to NCIS?" he asked.

Ziva shook her head. She would not have the honour of having Ducky do her autopsy.

"Is your bag packed?" she asked. Tony nodded and motioned to a jumble of black bags sitting just outside his bedroom door. Ziva went and picked one of them up. "Then let's go."

* * *

"I made dinner," Ziva said. She stood in the archway between the kitchen and living area, a glass in one hand and a wooden spoon in the other.

"I'm not hungry," he replied.

"That's nice, Tony. You will eat anyway," she said, her voice not inviting any argument. Tony sighed and followed her and into the brightly lit kitchen. Her four-piece table had been set for two and whatever she was cooking smelled delicious.

"What is it?" he asked. His mouth was watering and he was suddenly ravenous.

"It is just chicken with pasta," she shrugged. "I did not have much in the kitchen."

"It smells awesome," he said. He smiled for the first time. He took her glass out of her hands, took a swig and grimaced. "That's not water in there, Ziva."

"No, it is not," she answered. She scooped some pasta onto both their plates and then put the chicken on top before adding a generous scoop of the tomato-y sauce. She took the glass back from Tony and drained it. She held it out for Tony. "Refill?"

"I'm on it," he replied. He moved effortlessly around her kitchen and made their drinks as Ziva moved the plates to the table. He walked back over to the table and he put one of the glasses in front of Ziva.

"It is funny," Ziva said. "I've already eaten tonight but all of a sudden I felt ridiculously hungry."

"I know what you mean. Until a minute ago, I wasn't hungry but now I feel like I haven't eaten in three days. Actually, I'm not sure I have eaten in three days. I never got around to dinner. I was... interrupted," he replied. He sat down and they both took a bite. "This is amazing."

Ziva swallowed her mouthful before she answered, "Thank you, Tony."

He smiled at her and she smiled back but their faces fell at the same time as if they suddenly remembered what had happened to bring them here. They chattered while they finished their meal. Tony insisted on washing up while Ziva cleaned up and changed. He did the dishes then went into the living room to wait for his partner.

"NIS?" Tony asked when Ziva came in wearing a baggy grey jumper and track pants.

"Naval Investigative Service, yes?" she asked.

"Yes but why do you have it?" he asked.

"It belonged to Gibbs. He let me wear it one day," she explained. She sat down on the couch next to him and crossed her legs. "I just never gave it back."

"I have one too," Tony admitted.

"I think that he has a secret store of them anyway," Ziva replied. She yawned.

"You should go to bed," he suggested. "I can sleep on the couch."

"There is no need for that," she shrugged. He grinned at her but even though it was half-hearted, she couldn't help but smile back.

"I guess it's not like we haven't shared a bed before," he joked.

"No, it isn't, my furry bear," she agreed. She picked the remote up off the table and switched the television on. "You want to watch a movie? You can choose."

* * *

They lay in bed, their backs touching lightly. Both were unsure if the other was awake but neither moved. It was one of those conundrums where one wondered whether the other person was aware they were touching and although the position was getting a little uncomfortable, they couldn't move. If the other person realised they were touching they would pull away. And neither of them wanted that.

But whether they knew the other was awake or not, neither of them moved.

* * *

In the middle of the night, Tony got up to go to the bathroom. Ziva stirred next to him and he paused until he was sure she had fallen back asleep. After he was done, he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the bathroom mirror. His expression was less troubled than it should be but his eyes betrayed him. They were eyes full of guilt, not just over Jeanne, and sorrow. He paused to double, triple and quadruple check that he was clean of all of Jeanne's blood. _Jeanne's__blood._ The blood of the woman that he once thought he loved. Of course, he knew now that he was just caught up in the mission and the thrill of falling in love with the forbidden. Still didn't change the fact that he had killed her, not exactly in cold blood but almost. It was close enough from where he stood. He had been fired at before and not killed the shooter. But this was different. Never had he been shot at in his own house. Never had anyone wanted to kill him quite as much as Jeanne. He knew he should stop making excuses for her and stop blaming himself for her death.

He was just doing what any other human would do and it was his right. If he was shot at, he could shoot back. It was eat or be eaten, to shoot or be shot and he chose to shot. He chose to keep himself alive.

* * *

Ziva shook him awake in the middle of the night.

"What?" he asked. He was flat on his back and he could see the shadows of branches on the roof.

"You were having a bad dream," she replied groggily. She rolled over so she was on her stomach. She lifted her head up and looked at him. "We all would have done the same thing. In your position."

"So what? That makes it right?" he snapped.

"No. It does not mean you should not feel bad about it either. You took a human life. If you felt good about it, I would be worried," she replied. She sank back down onto her pillow and rolled onto her side.

And with that sentence, Tony felt a little bit better. Because she was telling him it was okay to feel bad.


	2. Four Words in Elegant Script

**NCIS**

**History Is Made At Night**

**A/N:**When I went to post this was playing up so sorry it took so long. Thanks to all the people who favourited and put this story on alert. Double thanks to those who reviewed. Happy reading everyone :-)

**Summary:**When Tony kills Jeanne after she reveals a secret, it's game on. If the guilt doesn't kill him, La Grenouille might. But with Ziva on his side, how can he lose? Slightly AU, set after Season Four.

**Disclaimer:**I do not own nor am I affiliated with NCIS in any way, shape or form.

**Chapter Two:** Four Words in Elegant Script

"What time is it?" Tony asked drowsily. He lifted his head up but quickly dropped it.

"Early," Ziva answered. She walked around to his of the bed and squatted next to him. She was already in her running gear of a white tank top and black leggings. "We report early at Mossad. I am used to getting up so I use the time to go for a run."

"Like I said, you're crazy," Tony grumbled. He groaned and nuzzled his face into the pillow. "Who runs when they can sleep?"

Ziva chuckled and stood up. Tony opened an eye to take in her lithe physique and muttered something appreciative. He was rewarded with a slap to the face.

"Hey!" he cried. He turned his head and Ziva chuckled again.

"I will come back and wake you at a more normal time," she told him. He murmured something and heard her leave the room, closing the door softly behind her before he was drawn back into the unconsciousness of sleep.

It seemed like only seconds before she was back. She sat next to him and gently shook him. Uncharacteristically, his eyes flickered open immediately and rolled over onto his back.

"Is it still early?" he asked. Ziva shook her head.

"No, it is not so early," she answered. "No-one will be expecting you to come to work today."

"There are still baddies out there and we need to catch them," Tony joked. Ziva covered his mouth.

"I know you think you are okay but you are not," she said. "You may not have been in love with Jeanne but she did die in your study and you... you tried to save her but you could not. Nobody expects you to just bounce back from that."

Tony reached up and removed her hand from his mouth. He dropped it so it was resting lightly on his chest. She didn't move it away.

"What made you so smart?" he asked.

"I am a trained assassin, Tony. It is what I do but even I cannot pretend that there haven't been deaths that have affected me," she answered. "This affected me. Mostly because it affects you but it did affect me."

"Underneath that cold-hearted killer facade, you're really just a big softie," he scoffed.

"What kind of softie can speak from personal experience about killing someone?" Ziva asked. The mood in the room became heavy. They both frowned a little. Ziva sighed then screwed her nose up at him. "Anyway, come to work or not. Either way, please go and have a shower."

"Will you join me?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows. Ziva replied by reaching for his chest hairs and pulling them hard. "Ouch. I did not deserve that."

"Oh but you did," Ziva replied. She gave him a wink before turning and flouncing out of the room.

* * *

"He will not be happy that you are here," Ziva murmured. McGee nodded in agreement and took a sip of his coffee.

"Remember when you came in with a broken nose and he re-broke it?" McGee asked. "That was just a broken bone. Imagine what he'll do after you..."

"After I what?" Tony snapped. "After I killed my fake ex-girlfriend?"

"Sorry, Tony," McGee answered, lowering his eyes.

"Anyway, the broken nose wasn't me, Probie," Tony replied.

"Really? Wasn't it?" he asked in surprise. He perched on the edge of Ziva's desk. "I could have sworn it was you. No, wait! It was that guy who tampered with the evidence in Abby's lab and Gibbs didnt rebreak his nose, he just broke it."

"I didnt break his nose. I gave him a black eye," Gibbs said from behind them. As per usual, the entire team jumped.

"We should be used to that by now," Ziva muttered to McGee who quickly leaped off her desk and basically ran to his own.

"DiNizzo, what are you doing here?" he asked. Tony pasted on his charmer smile and batted his eyelids.

"You can't live without me," he tried.

"Nice try but I think we can," Gibbs shot-back. "Now go home. I don't want to see you until after the funeral."

"With all due respect, boss, but I don't think I'm exactly welcome at the funeral," Tony interrupted.

"Well, you're going anyway," Gibbs ordered in a voice that invited no argument.

"We will all go. Isn't that right, Jethro?" Jen asked from behind them. This time even he jumped and Ziva and McGee shared a small smile.

"I don't know, Jen. Funerals aren't exactly my thing," he replied. She rose an eyebrow and he recognised the look on her face as one that came before a long-winded 'I am the Director' speech. He rose his shoulders slightly in defeat. "But I'll be there. We all will."

"Good. We need her family and the people that work for them to see that we are united and that we will support Tony through this," she said.

"You are aware that La Grenouille was using Jeanne to take you down, aren't you?" McGee asked. "He made an attempt on your life a day ago."

"I am aware of that. I want to show them that I am not afraid of them either," she said.

"The information that Jeanne supposedly got from me that's going to take Jen- I mean the Director down? Do you have any idea what it is?" Tony asked.

He noticed Jenny and Gibbs exchange a glance.

"I planted some false information in one of your folders," Jenny explained. She rose an eyebrow as if to say to Gibbs 'are you happy?' before turning to Tony. "I wasn't sure if Jeanne was really oblivious to her fathers operation or not but I had a gut feeling that she knew more than she let on. I was right."

"What happened to full disclosure?" Tony snapped. Ziva stood up straighter as she always did when Tony got angry or was in danger.

"Need to know, DiNozzo," Gibbs replied in defense of the Director. Jenny's face stayed a perfectly composed mask but they all knew what it would mean to her to have Gibbs defend her like that.

"I'm sick and tired of all the need to know bullshit. Don't you think I needed to know that my girlfriend was possibly one of the people we were trying to bring down?" he asked. He shook his head and when he looked up, his eyes were flaring. "Anything else I need to know?"

"Only one thing," Jenny replied after a moment. She smiled deviously and rose an eyebrow. "Besides, I just so happen to have a warrant for his arrest upstairs on my desk."

"You aren't going to arrest him at the funeral, are you?" Ziva spoke up. Jenny looked over at her and Ziva stood straighter. "He was a monster, yes, but he truly loved his daughter. I am sure that he is devastated that his actions resulted in her death. I just think it would not be right to arrest him until after the burial."

"Ziva's right," Gibbs agreed softly. They did not even glance in each others direction but everybody could sense that there was something behind her words.

"She is right," Tony sighed. "And considering the guy probably hates my guts, that's a pretty big call."

"We won't arrest him until after the funeral and the burial then," Jen agreed. "The day after."

"No. Right after. Before he can leave the cemetery," Ziva suggested. "If Le Grenouille is going to run, it will be then. He would not miss the burial for anything because of the guilt he will feel but he is a man of method and he will leave straight after she is buried."

"Again Ziva is right even if she still cant get her idioms right," Tony said.

"Why are you still here?" Gibbs asked suddenly. "I told you to go home at least ten minutes ago."

"On it, boss," he said, standing slowly up. He looked at Ziva who nodded.

He couldnt exactly go home so he would have to go to hers.

* * *

Ziva walked up the stairs to her house and entered the house later that night to find Tony asleep on the couch in front of a talk-show. His head was tipped back and his mouth was open but he was miraculously not snoring. She smiled softly at how young and innocent he looked. She removed her jacket and dumped her backpack on the coffee table. He didn't stir but a delicious smell emanated from the kitchen. She walked in to find one lasagne in the oven and another cooked but cool sitting on the bench. She sighed and shook her head. She couldn't eat lasagne. Tony would know that.

She had a quick look in the cupboards and saw that she could rustle something up for herself but she decided to get changed first. She swept past the still sleeping Tony and quickly removed her work clothes and changed into trackpants and a black singlet. She pulled her hair out of its pony-tail and removed the light layer of make-up that she had on.

Tony woke-up when she re-entered the living room. He patted the couch next to him and she went and sat next to him.

"Sleep well?" she asked, her tone teasing.

"Really well. I swear your couch was made for sleeping," he replied.

"I see you tried to make dinner," she continued. "Did you forget that I cannot eat lasagne, you bozo? It is not exactly kosher."

"I didn't forget," he retorted proudly. "I made one vegetarian and one with meat for me. And before you go getting all technical on me, I used the green chopping board for the vegetables and I washed all the utensils very thoroughly between making them. Not one bit of that lasagne is unkosher. Not kosher? I don't know but it is kosher."

Ziva was impressed. And she was even more impressed when she ate Tony's lasagne and found that it was very, very good.

* * *

McGee joined them later that night. They were playing poker and Ziva was losing fabulously which gave the boys no end of enjoyment. When she was down to her last chip and McGee had won the hand, they packed the cards away. McGee was just getting ready to leave when Tony spoke.

"I killed his daughter. La Grenouille is almost certainly going to want me dead," he said His face dropped and he caught Ziva's eye. He shrugged at her and she narrowed her eyes.

"We will not let anything happen to you," she said. Her voice was quiet but fierce and he didn't doubt her.

"Not that I don't have faith in you guys but we aren't exactly on top of our game here," Tony replied. "We didn't even know that Jeanne was in on her father's operation let alone reporting back to him. Who knows who else they have planted. The guy standing at the elevator there could pull a gun on me anytime."

"We aren't going to let anything happen to you," the statement came from McGee this time.

"Besides," Ziva continued, ever the voice of reason to Tony's voice of insanity. Not that he particular thought it was insane to be worried about a crazy man wanting him dead. "La Grenouille is going to want to kill you himself and it is going to be pretty hard to kill you from jail."

"But..." Tony started. He sighed and ruffled his hair.

"And he isn't going to want to mar Jeanne's memory like that or take you out in such a public place," McGee added. "And if the Director isn't afraid then you shouldn't be either."

"Tony," Ziva said, reaching over and placing her hand on his shoulder. "You are not going to die. We are going to arrest La Grenouille and we are going to put this all behind us. I promise you."

McGee nodded even though neither of them was looking at him. He waited a few moments for one of them to speak but they continued to watch each other in silence. He let himself out and shook his head. Tony and Ziva. They just didn't get it.

* * *

The note came on a piece of heavy cream paper slid under the door. It was obviously expensive, and monogrammed. They would have known who it was from even without the 'RB' printed in dark calligraphy. It was simple, only four words in elegant script. _'You will pay. Dearly.'_Ziva found it. She lifted it up and held to her chest. She swallowed hard and called Gibbs. She heard movement coming from her room and she quickly shoved the note into her backpack. It would be creased and marked but Tony was already petrified enough about his possible death that Ziva didn't want to worry him any further. She brushed her hair out of her face then set off to the kitchen to make coffee.

What he didn't know wouldn't hurt him. But it just might kill him.

* * *

The morning of the funeral came. Luckily for the team, they had closed their current case the night before and had had time for a sleep the night before.

It had been four days since Jeanne had died and four days since Tony had been home. Four days of him sitting on Ziva's couch. Four days of him cooking her dinner which she shoveled into her mouth sometimes at one or two in the morning before falling into bed next to him. Four days of him quoting at her and trying to act normal. After clearing it with Gibbs and Hoffman, Ziva had let herself into his apartment on the way back from her morning run. The apartment felt eery and was very silent. The slightly musty smell only lent to its feeling of abandonment and she made a decision to get in, get what she needed and get out quickly.

Pulling the empty backpack from her shoulders, she quickly filled the bottom with a selection of DVDs. There wasn't any method of picking them and she didn't have a list so she just grabbed a random pile. Then she went into Tony's bedroom. She added some socks, underwear, shirts and pants to the bag then she went into his closet and pulled out a garment bag. She checked to make sure that it was the right suit and when it was she added some more dress shirts to the hanger. After that she went back to the living room, left the backpack on the coffee table and went into the kitchen. She opened the fridge and pulled out the milk and some leftovers that had been there too long. She found a garbage bag in one of the drawers and dropped the bottle and containers into it. Then she pulled the bread out of the breadbox and added it to bag before searching out some rotting fruit and putting it in. She tied the bag and looked around at the kitchen once more. She sighed when she knew that Tony would never feel the same way here he had before. She thought the same thing when she stood at the end of the doorway, garbage bag still in her hand, and looked down at the study door. He would always see the door and would always feel the guilt.

She looked at her watch and shook herself out. She wanted to stay here and feel sorry for Tony some more but she was going to need all her strength to get through today and Tony was going to need her strength too. He tried to hide it but she knew that this was hard for him. And so it should be. It would have scared her and saddened her if Jeanne's death hadn't affected him. He swore until he was blue in the face that he didn't love her anymore and she believed him but he had loved her once. To top it all off, he would have to sit at her funeral and have those who knew him glare at him and blame him and on top of that, he would have to watch her father, the only man in the world who had ever loved her more than he once had, be arrested. Rene Benoit would be inconsolable and filled with guilt. On top of that, he would have more hate for Tony than a man had ever felt before. Tony had gotten in the way. He was meant to die and Jeanne was meant to live.

Ziva shivered when she thought about what La Grenouille could have done to Tony through Jeanne. She had protected him before and she swore that she would always protect him. No matter when, no matter what.

* * *

He woke to find Ziva sitting on the edge of the bed staring down at him, clad in her white dressing gown.

"Morning, sweetcheeks," he mumbled, rubbing his face.

"I went to your house and got some of your things," she said. "I hope I grabbed the right suit. I got you some more clothes and some of your movies as well."

"Films," he corrected. She rolled her eyes and softly slapped his face. That was what she did. Gibbs head-slapped him, she face-slapped him.

"You should get up. The funeral starts in two hours and Gibbs wants us at NCIS an hour before so we can go over the plan and then drive up together," Ziva said.

"I don't want to go," Tony said.

"I do not want you to go," Ziva answered. "But you should. Forget about everything else. You need closure and you will get closure when you bury her."

"Do you really think they will try to kill me?" Tony asked. He groaned and covered his face with his arms. "That would put a damper on an already miserable day."

He sounded like a broken record but Ziva understood.

"If they try, Tony, they will be dead themselves before you have hit the ground," Ziva answered, her voice dark and threatening. Tony didn't need to look at her to know that she was serious. Deadly serious. He opened his eyes anyway and was in awe of the way she shocked. She had on a face that he had never seen before. It was like her Mossad face but even more fearsome. There was anger, protectiveness, abandon, focus and even a little touch of tenderness. It was a look full of a thousand looks that each contradicted the other but it was impressive.

"Whoa, Ziva," he said, waving a hand in front of her face. "You can be a little less intense now. It's just you and me here. You don't need to be worried."

"I am sorry, Tony," she sighed, her expression replaced with one of concern. "I just cannot bear to lose another partner."

"You wont be losing one today," he said, his voice determined and inviting no argument.

"I bought you something," Ziva announced, breaking the moment. She got up from the bed and picked the backpack and dumped it on the bed. She watched bemusedly as Tony unzipped the bag and went through it, his eyes lighting up like a child's at the goodies.

"Oh, man. You even bought my rubber ducky," he grinned pulling out the yellow plastic toy.

"It stays on the side of the bath. If I find it in the shower at any point, I swear I will rip its beak off and then force-feed it to you," she snapped. That was one of the things he loved about them. They could have a deep conversation or an emotion charged moment but within seconds, they were back to being Tony and Ziva, Ziva and Tony. "Tony, you need to get out of bed now. You have forty-five minutes to shower and change and I know it takes at least half an hour to get that lived-in hair look you like so much."

"Breakfast?" he asked hopefully.

"We will pick something up on the way. Now, go! I need to get dressed too," she said.

* * *

"I can't believe I have to wear a vest," Tony grumbled as he walked into the living room. He fidgeted with his shirt. "Do you have to wear one?"

"Of course," Ziva said, tapping her chest to show him that there was indeed a bullet-proof vest under her black boat-neck dress. She walked over to Tony and pulled his shirt into place. "Perfect."

"How are you with ties?" he asked, waggling his eyebrows.

"I could kill you with one and not leave a mark," she shrugged. Tony's eyes bugged slightly and she smiled. "Alright, I might leave a mark or two."

"Cant leave you alone with anything," he muttered, tying his tie expertly. Ziva rose an eyebrow at him. "I went to a private school and we had to wear uniforms."

"You still managed to get it crooked," she sighed. She fixed it but then she saw his grin out of the corner of her eye and she realised he had done it on purpose. She pulled it a little too tight and let out a giggle when Tony gagged and pulled away. He quickly loosened it and made a big dramatic show of gasping for air.

"You could have killed me!" he cried.

"Better me than a big scary man with a gun," she added. They both stopped and became grin. Ziva looked at him nervously. "I forgot that that could be a possibility."

"Gibbs would never send us into a situation where it was almost certain we would die," Tony pointed out. It was as much to assure himself as to forgive Ziva. "Right?"

"Right," she nodded. She stepped back. "How do I look? I have not been to many American funerals so I wasnt sure what one wears."

"You look good," he answered. Her simple black dress was made out of jersey and she had black pumps on her feet. She had worn heels when she first started at NCIS but he hadn't seen her in them for ages. Processing crime scenes and driving for miles on end was better suited to hiking boots and flats. He was sober when he asked her how he looked too. She fixed his tie up properly and handed him his jacket.

"You look like you are going to a funeral," she answered. "Shall we go? If we leave now we will have time for breakfast."

"I'm ready," he answered. He went to put his jacket on but Ziva stopped him.

"Tony, do not put that on," she ordered. He paused and looked at her questioningly. "You are a slob and you will get your breakfast on it."

"Will not," he retorted but he took the jacket off his left arm and carried it instead.

* * *

Tony found himself sandwiched between the members of his team. Ziva was clutching his hand, her arm in front of his in a sign of possession and protection while Abby clung to his other elbow. He could practically feel Jenny's nose in his back, McGee had kicked his ankle twice and he could just feel that Gibbs was there walking next to the director, their arms bumping occasionally. It would have been easy to feel suffocated but he felt comforted more than anything.

"Do you want to say something to her mother?" Ziva asked.

"Not just yet," he answered. He motioned towards a row of empty seats with the hand that Ziva still held. She walked down the row and took a seat. Tony, Abby and McGee fell into place behind her but Gibbs and Jenny took two seats behind them.

"Just a precaution," Gibbs leant forward and murmured.

"Do you think they have seen us yet?" Ziva asked him. He looked her in the eye without answering and she nodded. "I thought so. Do you really think they will try something?"

"I don't think so. He loved his daughter too much," Jen replied for him. She gave Ziva a reassuring smile. "Tony will be fine. Besides, Rene seems much more intent on bringing me down."

Ziva raised her eyebrows slightly at the Director's use of his real name but she simply gave a small smile back and turned her full attention to Tony who was nervously looking around. Her hand found his again and she gave it a firm squeeze.

"If anyone was going to say something they would have said it by now," she whispered. He looked at her gratefully as the sounds of Simon and Garfunkel filled the church.

"She loved Simon and Garfunkel," Tony explained as the mourners stood up to watch the casket being carried down the aisle. La Grenouille noticed the agents but he quickly moved his glance onto the next group of people. Her mother noticed Tony as she walked behind the procession. Her face paled slightly but she steeled herself and made her way to the front row where she practically seemed to collapse. Ziva noticed that Tony's had paled too. She knew that there was nothing she could say that would give him comfort anymore so she simply nestled her hand back into his and nudged him gently with her shoulder to let him know that she was there.

* * *

"I'm sorry for your loss," Abby said to the Benoit/Berkley's as the team left the church. "It was a beautiful sevice."

"Thank you," Helen replied. McGee nodded to her cordially and then joined Abby a few feet away. Gibbs and Jenny followed them.

"I, too, am sorry for your loss," Jen said. Her voice carried a hint of coolness but she managed to cram a whole lot of sympathy in there as well. She and La Grenouille eyed each other warily.

Gibbs nodded silently at Jeanne's parents as he prodded Jenny away. She broke contact with La Grenouille and leaned slightly into Gibbs as they walked away. They waited with Abby and McGee. The three trained agents kept a subtle eye out, ready to spring into action. Tony and Ziva made it up to the door and paused to talk to Doctor Berkley and Rene. Their faces hardened as the two agents stopped.

"I'm more sorry than you can imagine," Tony said. He was aware of Ziva next to him, her hand still firmly in his.

"I cannot believe you showed your face here," La Grenouille hissed.

"Rene," Helen said but her face was pinched together.

"Helen," he replied.

"We do not want to cause any trouble. We just wanted to give our condolences and apologise. We are sincerely sorry," Ziva interrupted. She bumped Tony with her shoulder and he walked away.

"Well, that went well," Tony said as they reached the group. Gibbs chuckled and rested his hand briefly on his shoulder. "Boss, don't make me go to the burial. Please."

Tony, Ziva and The Director would go first in one car. McGee, Abby and Gibbs would follow and arrive just as the burial was ending. They would wait at La Grenouille's car and take him into custody. Tony and the girls were there mostly for back-up. Gibbs had made that decision. He knew what Jen was like when she was pissed off and she was pissed off at Grenouille.

"I think you should go," Gibbs said evenly. He looked over at Ziva who nodded.

"Tony, I am beginning to sound like a ruined... a broken record," she said. She smiled triumphantly and he smiled back. "If I can get an idiom right then you can do this."

"La Grenouille hates me already. He's going to hate me that much more when we've arrested him," Tony said. "I'll have to watch my back for the rest of my life."

"But you have me," Ziva said.

"And me," McGee added.

"Me too," Abby piped-up. "I'm not so good with a gun or with a knife but I can find some way to protect you."

"DiNozzo," Gibbs said. "You have enemies already. One more isn't going to hurt."

"He has a point," McGee agreed. He looked around at the rapidly emptying church. "I think you guys should go. We'll see you there."

"Stick to the plan," Gibbs ordered, pointedly looking at Jen. She rose an eyebrow at him innocently and they shared a look.

* * *

Tony watched as Jeanne's family sprinkled dust and threw pink roses on top of the coffin. The minister committed her to the ground and a cousin read a poem. He found himself affected finally. A tear rolled down his cheek but all Ziva did was squeeze his arm. He lowered his arm and slipped his hand into hers. A few more sobs escaped him as they lowered her coffin into the ground. Ziva rested her head on his shoulder and Jenny reached over and rested her hand on his arm. He finished crying and wiped his face with his hand.

"If you don't feel up to taking care of things, I'll understand," Jenny said. She rifled through her bag and handed him a wad of tissues. He took them gratefully and blew his nose.

"No, I want to be there. Jeanne's death was a waste. It could have been prevented. It's Grenouille's fault and he should pay," Tony said. Seeing Jeanne's coffin being lowered into the ground had touched a nerve. It was as if he finally felt something.


	3. Slipped Through the Glass

**NCIS**

**History Is Made At Night**

**A/N:** Thank you again for the alerts and reviews. There's another small author's note at the end because I don't want to give anything away up here. I hope you all enjoy this again.

**Summary:**When Tony kills Jeanne after she reveals a secret, it's game on. If the guilt doesn't kill him, La Grenouille might. But with Ziva on his side, how can he lose? Slightly AU, set after Season Four.

**Disclaimer:**I do not own nor am I affiliated with NCIS in any way, shape or form.

**Chapter Three:** Slipped Through the Glass

* * *

When Tony and Ziva got back from the burial site the rest of the team were standing together. La Grenouille saw Tony and he grinned. He knew what was coming. He stepped away from the group that he was talking to and held out his hands.

"I would prefer no handcuffs if you don't mind," he called out to them.

Ziva and Gibbs exchanged a glance. Gibbs nodded at her and she walked over and placed her hand on his shoulder. She read out the Miranda act to him in a low voice. McGee walked over to them and helped her walk him to the car as the last of the mourners looked on in shock. They drove off towards NCIS headquarters leaving the rest of the team behind.

A furious Helen stormed over to him and slapped him in the face. Abby gasped and turned away while Jenny and Gibbs barely stopped themselves from putting their hands on their guns. Tony stood there and took it.

"You people disgust me," she hissed. "Rene loved Jeanne and no matter what he has done, you have no right to arrest him on the day of his daughter's funeral. What the hell is wrong with you people?"

"I'm very sorry, Doctor Berkeley," was all Tony could say.

"You people are lower than scum," she said. She spat on the ground and glared at them all furiously before turning her anger onto Tony. "And you. You are a worthless piece of trash. What kind of man are you? You killed my daughter. You took her away from me and I will never ever forgive you. I hope you burn for what you have done."

"Believe me," he replied. "I will live with the regret forever. I will feel guilty forever. I'll see her face everyday and I will feel terribly for what I have done. But I didn't mean to kill her. I promise I didn't mean to kill her."

"Those promises mean nothing now because she is dead and you did kill her. Regret? Guilt? You're getting off easily. Did you even love my daughter, Agent DiNozzo?" Helen asked. She spat his name out with such disgust.

A flash of brown skin and blue eyes and toothy grins flitted across Tony's mind and he nodded.

"I believe I did," he answered.

Helen's face crumpled and she began to cry. A woman came out from the crowd and put her arms around Helen. She led her away but not before spitting on the ground and muttering something horrible about them herself.

"Are you okay, Tony?" Abby asked, rushing over to him.

"She spat on my shoe," Tony replied.

* * *

"I think you should start from the very beginning," Ziva suggested. She dug her chopsticks through her food and waited for Tony patiently.

It had been a long day and after an unsuccessful turn in the interrogation room with La Grenouille, Gibbs had sent Tony home and Ziva with him.

"I don't want to talk about it," Tony replied. He placed to much food in his mouth and Ziva rolled her eyes as he struggled to chew and swallow it.

"You Americans always want to talk about things," Ziva said. "What makes this so different?"

"It's not exactly a hot date with a busty blonde, is it?" Tony asked pointedly. He ate another mouthful before he realised that Ziva was still looking at him expectantly. "Why do you want to know?"

"I just want to know what is going on inside that big head of yours," she shrugged. "I have been here before. Maybe I can help you."

"You already know what happened," he sighed. She leaned forward and implored him with her dark eyes.

"I don't just want to know the basics, Tony. I want to know everything. Trust me. It will help you to spill your guts, is it?" she asked. She knew she had gotten the expression right but she also knew it was the wrong one to use. Tony grimaced and pressed his eyes shut for a moment. "I am sorry. That was a bad choice in words."

"I'll tell you everything, okay?" he said. "But you have to tell me something in return."

"What do I have to tell you?" she asked suspiciously.

"Tell me about your hardest death," he said. She looked pained for a moment but then she nodded her head slowly.

"I have one more condition however," she continued. He nodded. "We do not judge either and what is said here does not leave this room. Agreed?"

"Agreed," he replied. He gave her one of his trademark smiles. "Your story must be pretty juicy."

"You would be correct," she said. "You go first."

She had taken his statement but it was done in the rush that had followed Jeanne's death. Get the basis of the story, get Tony into the shower, get Gibbs inside the house. There wasn't much time for embellishment just 'Jeanne knows about her dad, has information to take Jenny down, she shot first, she missed, I shot back, she's dead.' So Tony gave her the story from knock on the door to the way it felt to have his hands pressed against her bullet-ridden torso to the the relief (and sorrow) he felt when he looked up to see Ziva pointing her gun at him.

"The rest you know," Tony shrugged when he had finished telling his tale. He was looking anywhere but her. She could practically feel the guilt oozing from his pairs. He was disgusted with himself and yet there was an air of resignation around him. It was over now.

"I am sorry you had to go through that, Tony," Ziva said, lightly resting her arm on his thigh.

"I've never seen a woman so focused yet so unhinged. She was so mad, Ziva. She wanted me dead and she was convinced she was going to get me dead," he continued.

"She was very wrong though," Ziva added. "We would have found out who murdered you and we would have killed her."

"She would've been unrecognisable by the time you were done with her, huh?" Tony joked, trying to lighten the mood.

"They have dental records for a reason, I suppose," Ziva shrugged. "No big deal. I am more concerned with what Gibbs and McGee would have done. Not to mention Abby."

"Well, I already took care of it and she's already dead," Tony snapped suddenly.

Ziva flinched and pulled her hand off his lap. It was okay for him to make jokes about it but it wasn't okay for her yet, Not for the first time she wondered if there was something seriously wrong with their team that they could make jokes about killing people and leaving no evidence or leaving them unrecognisable. Normal people just didn't do that. She shrugged it off though because tonight she was all about Tony and making him feel better.

"I am sorry. It just makes me mad to think about it," Ziva replied. "I do not like to think of you in dangerous situations."

"I'm not too fond of it myself," Tony sighed. His dinner had gone cold and he stood up. "I'm going to reheat my dinner and then you are going to tell me your story."

"Will you get me a drink while you are up?" she called out after him. She listened to him in the kitchen and she shook her head. He was getting hard to deal with. He snapped from normal, Italian-stallion Tony to bereft Tony to grumpy Tony all in the space of a second. It was difficult to know what to say because you never knew how he would react. Would he joke back? Would he yell? Would he shrug it off? You just never knew.

He was back in a minute toting his warmed-up meal and a glass of wine which he handed to a grateful Ziva. She took a large gulp and tried not to baulk at the bitterness. She took a smaller sip and then placed it on the side table. She stretched her legs out rested her feet on the coffee table. She waited until Tony had finished his dinner and had put his empty container on the coffee table. They both leant back into the lounge and turned slightly to each other.

"My story is a little more difficult than yours," she said slowly. "Well, not difficult but a bit harder to digress. I mean, digest."

"Who did you have to kill?" he asked, blunt as ever.

"My brother," she answered. "My half-brother, to be exact. I... I shot him."

"You're half-brother," Tony replied. She could practically see his brain ticking over as he comprehended the words.

"Tony, I shot him in Gibbs basement," she said suddenly.

"You shot your brother in Gibbs basement?" he parroted. He mouthed the words again and he looked up at her. It clicked and he gaped at her. "Ziva, you mean to say you shot... You killed..."

"Ari Haswari," she finished for him. She pulled her legs off the coffee table and drew them under her, simultaneously moving as far away from Tony as she could without falling off the couch. She waited in silence as he came to grips with what she had just told him.

"But that's impossible. Gibbs shot Ari. Gibbs shot... How come you never told me? It seems like something I should've known," he huffed.

"Right, like you told me about Jeanne," she scoffed. "You do not trust me at all."

"What you did was worse!" he cried. "Ari killed Kate. He killed my partner right in front of me and then he tried to kill Gibbs."

"I shot him before he had the chance to kill Gibbs," she cried back. She gave him a quick recount of what had gone down in Gibbs basement.

"How do I know you weren't trying to get Gibbs and you got Ari instead?" he asked.

"If I wanted Gibbs dead he would be," Ziva replied drily. He knew it but he was mad.

"You could have stopped him from killing Kate. You were his control officer. You should have known what was going on and you should have stopped him," Tony continued.

"How could I have known? Ari was very good at his game. Even my father did not know that he had turned and my father was the one who really controlled him. I could not have stopped him killing Kate because I did not know he wanted to. I did not even know he wanted to kill Gibbs until just before I shot him. That is why I protested his innocence. I did not know what he had done. I was a good control officer, Tony, but not good enough. I know that. Because Ari was my brother, we both took liberties. It was understood that we would. I did not know that his liberties would be turning on his country, on his family. I did not know he would kill Kate," she steam-rolled. Tony was sure it was the most he had ever heard her say at one time and she said it with such passion and abandon that he knew she meant every word. "Do you not see why I could never tell you before? You barely understand it as it is but if I had told you before you had killed Jeanne it would have been worse."

"What we did was very different," Tony seemed to hiss. He knew she was earnest but he was still furious.

"Not really," she answered. "We both killed monsters. Do not give me that look. Jeanne was a monster too. She knew her father was an arms dealer and she was aiding him in trying to take down Jenny. Not to mention she was willing to kill you to get what she wanted. Ari and her were not very different when it came down to it."

"Jeanne wasn't a terrorist!" Tony yelled.

"And I didn't know that Ari was!" Ziva yelled back. They were both glaring at each other and breathing heavily. Ziva closed her eyes and got her breath back. "Tony, I loved Ari with my whole heart. He was my world. He was my big brother. I looked up at him and when Tali died, he was all I had left. Killing him almost took all the strength I had but I did it because it was right. It was either Ari or Gibbs that died that day and I had to choose who lived and who died."

"Why didn't you just tell me?" Tony asked and for a moment, she knew that it was what hurt him the most.

"Gibbs and I made a deal. He would say that he killed Ari and we would keep it a secret forever. No one was ever supposed to find out," she explained. "If anyone, especially my father, ever found out that I killed him... Tony, I would be either dead or back in Israel in an interrogation room before you could finish the sentence. And believe me, people do not often leave Mossad interrogation rooms alive."

"Then why did you tell me tonight?" Tony asked.

"I know I can trust you. I know I can trust you with my life and I also thought it might help you to know that I had killed someone I loved very much too. Besides, we made a pact."

They were both silent. It was awhile before Tony realised that Ziva was crying. She wasn't crying hysterically but she did have tears rolling down her smooth cheeks. She felt his eyes on her and she looked up at him.

"Do you know how old I was when I shot him?" she asked. He shook his head. "I was 24. Barely 24 and and yet there I was, my fathers only surviving child."

"You're only 26?" he asked incredulously.

"I will be 27 in a few months," she replied.

"I don't know how you've survived so much death in your 26 years," he murmured.

"It has not been easy," she admitted.

"I thought I would go crazy with grief when my mum died. I was only 12 and I never got over it. I felt the same way when Kate died. I mean, I see death every day but it isn't often that the people I love die," he continued.

"You do not get used to it either," Ziva replied.

"Good. I wouldn't want you to get used to it."

"I would be less of a human if I did," she replied. She said the words as if they were a mantra she had often repeated. She was telling herself that it was okay to be affected by death even if her training and even her very nature said it wasn't "Tony, are we okay?"

"Yeah, we're okay, Ziva," he replied. He offered her a small smile and she offered an even smaller one back.

The phone rang and they both jumped.

"I'll get it," Tony said. He reached over and picked the cordless phone up out of its cradle. "Hello David residence."

Ziva had a few gulps of wine while he had a short but intense conversation. He hung up the phone and she knew what he was going to say.

"When did they release him?" she asked.

"They're just releasing him now," he replied. He took Ziva's glass off her and downed the wine. "They couldn't find the evidence in time and the charges didn't stick."

"We knew they most likely wouldn't," Ziva said. "Tony, I am sorry."

"Don't be. Look, I think it would be safer for everyone if I went back to my place. If La Grenouille is going to come after me and he comes in guns blazing, I don't want you caught in the crossfire."

"Yeah right," Ziva replied calmly. She fought the urge to roll her eyes at him. "If you leave, I'm coming with you and you know it so stop all this macho, hero crap."

"I'm not trying to be a hero. I just don't want somebody else that I care about to die," he shot back. "La Grenouille has people everywhere and he's not going to give up until I'm dead. I may as well just give up now."

"For goodness sake, Tony!" she snapped. She, in her mind, had been very patient but enough was enough. "Enough! When will you realise that you are not in this alone and you will never be in this alone? You are not going to die and we are certainly not going to give you up to the, to the..."

"Dogs," he offered. "Feed me to the dogs."

"Thank you, feed you to the dogs. We are in this together and no matter what you say, I am not leaving you and I will shoot anybody who tries to harm you. You have me on your side. You have Gibbs and Jenny and Abby and McGee and if you think that any of us are going to let someone come within ten feet of you then you are wrong. So stop feeling sorry for yourself and fight back."

"I don't feel sorry for myself," he muttered. He was rewarded with a slap to the back of the head a la Gibbs. "Hey, only the boss can Gibbs-slap me."

"Did it help?" she asked stonily.

"Well, yeah," he admitted.

"Then what's your problem?" she asked. Her face softened. "Please don't give up. We will find a way to keep you safe."

"I know you will," he sighed. He walked over to the window next to the front door and he peeked out. "Protection detail just arrived."

"That means it's time for bed," she said. She picked up the empty wine glasses and plates and carried them into the kitchen. She filled the sink up with water and detergent and methodically washed up. Cups first then cutlery, plates, containers and last the pots and pans used for cooking. She was lifting the last of the pans onto the drying rack when she felt Tony slip an arm around her waist. He rested his chin on the space between her shoulder and neck. She could feel his stubble ans his breath as she closed her eyes and relaxed against him.

"Thank you, Ziva," he whispered. His hand was pressed against her belly and her hand found his. They wove their fingers together, her other hand still in the water, and stayed there for awhile.

"You'd do the same for me," Ziva murmured when she thought she could trust her voice again. She was almost breathless at their close proximity. He kissed her on the cheek and she swallowed hard.

The plate slipped through her fingers just as the first bullet slipped through the glass missing her by mere millimetres. They both immediately dropped to the ground. Ziva opened the cupboard under the sink open and pulled out a gun from behind the drains.

"Imagine my surprise," Tony said drily. "Where do you think they are?"

"On the other side of the bushes," Ziva whispered. A hedge of bushes separated the side of Ziva's house from her neighbours.

"That's close," Tony noted. All it would take for a perpetrator to get inside was to push through or jump over the hedges, a quick jog up the side of the house then they could come in through the back door.

"The protection detail wouldn't have seen him. Crawl into the living room. I'll cover you," she whispered. Tony hesitated. "Go."

He sighed but he crawled quickly into the living room. Ziva crawled in backwards somewhat awkwardly considering she was holding a gun in one hand. She made Tony lie in between the lounge and the coffee table which he did so more because he was afraid of what she would do to him if he didn't than what he was afraid La Grenouille would do if he caught him. They were silent but they could hear a flurry of activity outside as the agents assigned to protect him swarmed around the house. Ziva was alert to every noise and movement around them. Tony knew she was itching to be out there looking for the assailant but she wanted to be inside protecting him too. Eventually though a knock came at the door. Ziva sauntered over, moving noiselessly, and when the agent on the other side gave the all-clear phase, she opened it.

"That was too close, Agent Dunkirk," she hissed through clenched teeth.

"I'm very sorry, Officer David," the younger agent replied. "He must have slipped through the cracks."

"Agent Gibbs will not be happy when he hears about this," she said. "It was too close."

"We've tightened security and we'll be bringing in more agents," Dunkirk answered. He had a feeling that apologising was useless and he had very little else to say.

"That would not be necessary if you had done your job correctly in the first place," Ziva snapped.

"Ziva, let it go," Tony said from the couch. She turned to him and glared but before she could talk, he held his hand up.

"But you almost died."

"No, you almost died," he reminded her gently. "You once told me that if you wanted someone dead you would find a way to do it. You have gotten into places that are heavily armed and a hundred times more guarded than this. Cut the poor guy some slack."

"I suppose that's true," she agreed.

"Will you let poor Agent Dunkirk go now?" he asked. She nodded and took a step back. Tony caught Dunkirk's eye. "Don't think I'm not angry, Agent Dunkirk, but I know you tried. Now get out of here before she changes her mind."

The agent practically ran down the front steps and disappeared into a black van. Ziva closed the door behind him. She walked over and sat on the couch next to Tony.

"I will never get used to that," she whispered. "Feeling a bullet so close to my skin."

She shivered and he scooted closer to her. He put his arm around her and she collapsed against his chest in a moment of weakness. He held her and they stayed like that for awhile before she pulled herself away. She offered him a small, shy smile.

"I am going to go to bed. Are you coming?" she asked. She had shown him so much of herself tonight. Normally she would have run a mile in the other direction but tonight she was willing to let it go.

"In a minute," Tony answered. "I just need a moment."

She nodded and went off to bed. Tony sat in the darkness for a little while and thought about how it had felt to hold Ziva so close to his body. And then he thought about how it felt to watch a bullet skim so close to her skin. He couldn't handle having the blood of another team member splattered on his face. Especially not one that he cared so much about, especially not one that he loved. It had taken him so long to admit to himself and it would take him even longer to admit it to her, if he ever did. She had let him in tonight but who knew if it would ever happen again. All he knew was what he had felt about Jeanne paled, almost disappeared, in comparison to what he felt for Ziva.

* * *

Ziva lay alone in her bed. Despite everything that had happened that night, all she could think about was those moments before they were shot at. If she closed her eyes she could almost feel herself still pressed up against Tony, his breath mingling with hers, their fingers entangled and hands pressed against her body. She had lowered her shield so much with him tonight and it had been so easy, almost pleasant not to be so guarded. He appreciated it to. She knew he was pleased as punch every time Ziva told him something about her life and she made up her mind to do it more often. She wanted to make him happy and she wanted him to be safe because she loved him. She had always loved him.

* * *

**A/N2:** It may seem like I glazed over the whole La Grenouille being arrested scenario but it will come into play in a later chapter. I will have the scene where he and Tony confront each other but it didn't fit with this chapter and it made it too long. Thanks for reading :-)


	4. A Long Days Unfruitful Labour

**NCIS**

**History Is Made At Night**

**A/N:** Yes it has been awhile since I updated. In very exciting news though, I almost finished writing this today. I just got hit with inspiration and I wrote, wrote, wrote. It's only short (six chapters and maybe an epilogue). I'm currently writing the last chapter. I have to get up at six tomorrow morning so it's too late to finish it tonight. I'm aiming for tomorrow afternoon. The upside of starting work at a ridiculous house is getting to go home early-ish. Anyway this chapter sort of deviates from the main plot line a little bit because I felt like the team needed a break. I hope you enjoy it.

**Summary: **When Tony kills Jeanne after she reveals a secret, it's game on. If the guilt doesn't kill him, La Grenouille might. But with Ziva on his side, how can he lose? Slightly AU, set after Season Four.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own nor am I affiliated with NCIS in any way, shape or form.

**Chapter Four:** A Long Days Unfruitful Labour

They both lay in bed, not sleeping. Tony was on his back staring at the ceiling while Ziva was curled up into a ball watching branches sway in the wind. After a few minutes she got up and pulled the curtains shut.

"It was too light in here," she said in explanation as she climbed back into bed. Tony chuckled as she made herself comfortable. She lay on her back this time.

"Do you think a curtain is going to make it harder for a bullet to get through?" he asked, his voice light.

"I was actually thinking it would be harder to know where to aim if they didn't know where to look," she admitted. She chuckled herself. "That's probably a stupid thing to think."

"I don't think anyone is going to try anything else tonight," Tony said.

"You are probably right," she agreed.

"It's driving you crazy not to be out there looking for him, isn't it?" Tony asked.

She had called Gibbs before going to bed and he had ordered her to stay and protect Tony. The protection detail had cleaned the mess in the kitchen up and had temporarily covered the window in garbage bags. Ziva had gone to bed and lay there thinking until Tony had joined her and they both lay there thinking.

"Yes and no. I want to find him but what are we going to do when we catch him? We have no evidence tying him to the shooting and it is just going to end the same way. With a phone call telling us he has been released again," Ziva answered. It was tough for her to admit that they weren't calling the shots this time. But Ziva wasn't finished telling the truth. "I would rather be with you anyway."

The last sentence was said quietly and tentatively. Tony almost asked her to repeat it because it was so unlike her. He did, however, respond in a typical Tony way.

"Oh Ziva, I didn't realise you felt that way," he joked.

"Yes you did," she replied.

"Yeah I did," he admitted after a moment. "I feel the same way."

Ziva smiled to herself while unbeknownst to her, Tony did the same. She yawned as sleep finally overtook any other feelings she felt. She rolled onto her side and buried her face into her pillow.

"Good night, Tony," she murmured.

"Night Ziva," he replied.

When she woke up for her morning run, his arms were around her.

* * *

"He is impossible to wake up," Ziva cried, her arms flailing as she made her point. "I practically had to strip to get him to even notice me."

"I knew I should have held out a little longer," Tony groaned. Ziva shot him an evil glare as McGee looked on bemusedly.

"I tried yelling at him, pulling his hair, tipping water on him," Ziva continued. "All that it resulted in was wet sheets and me ready to pull my gun."

"Ready to pull your gun?" Tony asked. He turned to McGee. "Do you have any idea what it is like to wake-up with a gun attached to the side of your head?"

"Uh, no. Can't say that has happened to me," he answered.

"I am sorry, Tony," Ziva said. "But you left me no choice."

"You held a gun to my head!" he yelled.

"Got you out of bed, didn't it?" Gibbs asked, walking into the bullpen.

Tony glared at Ziva and she smirked back. He mouthed 'I'll get you' and she chuckled to herself.

"We're searching for leads on La Grenouille," she explained to Gibbs before he could ask.

"Are you getting anywhere?" Gibbs asked.

"We sent teams out to his house, the marina and a warehouse he sometimes worked out of but nothing," McGee answered as Tony's phone rang. "We sent someone to Dr. Berkeley's house too."

"Nothing there," Tony said, hanging the phone up. "That was Agent Johnson. He said Helen, er Dr. Berkeley was there but there was no evidence of La Grenouille being there."

"Anything else?" Ziva probed, seeing the look on Tony's face.

"Apparently she had a message for me to watch my back," Tony answered. His face had fallen somewhat. Ziva walked over to his side and nudged him.

"Don't worry about that because I have your back, remember?" she told him.

"Which I am very grateful for," Tony sighed. They looked at each other a smidgen longer than was appropriate for the office and for Gibbs.

"Is it going to be a problem you two sharing a house?" Gibbs asked, snapping the out of the moment.

Ziva hadn't even realised her hand was on Tony's shoulder until he spoke. She took a step back and walked into the desk.

"Ouch," she muttered, rubbing her hip. She looked up at Gibbs after exchanging a super-quick glance with Tony. "I am sure that staying at my house will not be a problem, Gibbs. We will make sure of that. Right, Tony?"

"If someone stops holding a gun to my head," he replied with a joke, because it was expected of him. His phone rang again and he said a thank you in his head. The rest of the team stood around silently listening to his half of the conversation. "Thanks."

"La Grenouille?" Ziva asked.

"He was spotted down near the marina," Tony replied. He walked around his desk and reached into his drawer for his gun. Ziva and McGee did the same. Only Gibbs stayed still.

"Are we not going after him?" McGee asked.

"What for?" Gibbs asked.

"Because he tried to kill Tony," McGee offered.

As if remembering the conversation she and Tony had had the night before, Ziva dropped her gun.

"We're not going after him because we have no evidence that it was he who shot at us," Ziva answered. She sat down on her seat and sighed. "This is so ridiculous. He is the criminal and we can't do anything about it."

"So," Gibbs said. "Find some evidence."

* * *

Much to the protection details dismay, instead of resting at home after a long days unfruitful labour, the team retired to their local drinking-hole. After a quick pit stop at home to change Tony, Ziva, Abby, McGee and Palmer met at the bar. It was busy for a Wednesday but not quite packed and they managed to snag themselves a booth. Ziva bought the first round with Tony buying the second very soon after. Ziva hadn't even finished her vodka, lime and soda when it was replaced with a mojito. Within an hour, everybody had bought a round including Palmer who counted himself very lucky to be asked along. Within two hours they were senseless and dancing. Abby pulled Ziva onto the floor who pulled Tony who dragged McGee who pulled Palmer who was secretly thrilled they were going to dance and glad not to be left alone. They were dancing in a circle but it was very clear who was really dancing with who. At least it was very clear that Tony and Ziva were dancing together without dancing together. Abby as beside herself and when there was a lull in the music, she dragged Ziva off to the bathroom.

"Oh my gosh oh my gosh oh my gosh," she squealed when they were alone. "Something happened between you and Tony, didn't it?"

"Nothing happened," Ziva answered. She was ordinarily a good liar but Abby could practically read the entire teams minds.

"One man's nothing is another man's something," she pointed out. "So even though you say nothing happened, something did happen. It might seem like nothing to you but believe me, it was something. I keep repeating myself, don't I?"

"Something like that," Ziva said with a giggle. She stopped giggling when she saw Abby's pleading eyes. "Fine. Maybe something did happen."

"I knew it! Tell me, tell me, tell me!" she all but shrieked.

"Calm down," Ziva said, laughing again. She dragged Abby over to the red velvet settee that sat near the doorway of the bathroom. "I'll tell you if you calm down."

"Totally calm," Abby said but she was bouncing up and down excitedly.

"Last night before the shooting we had dinner and we talked. We kind of had a fight but when I was washing up, Tony came in and he put his arms around me and he held me and he probably would have kissed me if it weren't for that damn bullet," she whispered, though her whispering probably wasn't very quiet. "And then we sat on the couch and he held me for awhile and then when I woke up this morning we were forking or whatever it is."

Abby was too excited to correct her friend though in her mind she thought 'they wish they were forking.' She jumped off the settee and jumped up and down.

"Oh I knew this would happen. You two so love each other," she cooed. "Tony and Ziva sitting in a tree."

"It's not like that," Ziva said, sobering up somewhat. "We are two people being forced together in an intense situation. That's all."

"No," Abby said. She stomped her foot and shook her head adamantly. "No way, Ziva David. It's not that and you know it."

"Do you really think so?" Ziva asked.

Even through the alcohol, Abby could see her vulnerability. She sank back down next to Ziva and took her hand.

"Everybody can see it," she said as honestly and convincingly as she could. "Even you aren't so good that you can hide it."

"I'm not?" Ziva asked. That was almost more than she had ever given in her life. She sighed and gave Abby a soft smile. "I love him."

"I know you do," Abby replied.

"It is quite inconvenient though," she said.

"No-one said love was easy. That's what makes it so good. I mean when you've found it," Abby shrugged.

"Do you really think he feels the same way?" Ziva asked. "It does not matter if he does. He just lost the first woman he ever really loved. This is the wrong time."

"It's always going to be the wrong time," Abby said, rolling her eyes. "Ziva, I've known Tony for a long time and I've seen him go through girl after girl but I have never seen him look at them or worry about them or antagonise them or want them like he does you. Not even Jeanne. He wasn't in love with her. Maybe he thought he was but he wasn't. How could he be when he's been in love with you since he first saw you."

It was definitely a statement and Ziva knew it. She smiled at her friend and for now, she remained convinced.

"What do I do now?" she asked.

"You tell him," Abby replied. "As soon as you can."

Ziva surprised Abby by grabbing her face and giving her a kiss on the cheek.

"I love you, Abigail Sciuto," she smiled. She got up and strode out of the bathroom.

"I love you too, Ziva," Abby beamed even though Ziva was long gone. She absolutely beside herself.

This had to be the best night ever.

* * *

Ziva scanned the room and saw that the boys were sitting down at the table. She made her way over to them. Tony was standing a little bit away talking to someone. Ziva went over and tapped him on the back. He turned to face her and he smiled at her. She smiled back, suddenly shy.

"Are you okay? You and Abs were gone for a long time," he asked.

"We were just talking. Do you want to go soon?" she asked. Tony shifted slightly and she saw the gorgeous blonde creature he was talking too. "Oh, I didn't realise you were preoccupied."

"This is Layla Barrett. I went to college with her. She just moved her from Ohio," he said. "Layla, this is Ziva David. She has the misfortune of having to live and work with me."

"It's not all a misfortune," Ziva disagreed. She shook Layla's hand cordially. "Were you two friends back in college?"

"Best friends," Layla answered flashing Tony a big toothy smile.

"We hung around in the same group," Tony replied at the same time. Ziva stepped a little closer to him, whether she meant to or not. Tony certainly didn't mind that their hips were touching. "Layla was a cheerleader."

"I wasn't the head cheerleader or anything," she shrugged. "It was fun while it lasted though. I'm in finance now. It's not exciting like what you guys do."

"I wouldn't call it exciting," Ziva replied. "It's challenging."

"What are you working on at the moment?" Layla asked.

"We can't discuss cases," Tony answered. "It would bore you anyway."

"Speaking of work, it's late and I'm kind of drunk. I think I'm just about ready to go home," Ziva said. "Are you coming?"

"I might hang out for a little bit longer. Abby doesn't look ready to leave yet," Tony answered. He kissed Ziva on the cheek. "I'll see you later."

"Just don't wake me when you get home," Ziva said. She forced a smile onto her face. She didn't notice Tony frown at her fake happiness because she was too busy saying a fake happy goodbye to Layla. "It was nice to meet you. Maybe I'll see you around."

"I hope so," Layla grinned.

Ziva walked off slowly and went back to the table. She caught Abby's eye and she shrugged.

"Who is that woman?" Abby asked.

"Layla Barrett. Ex-cheerleader, currently in finance. Apparently Tony went to college with her and they were 'best friends,'" Ziva replied. She didn't bother to hide her disappointment. "I'm going to go. Will someone make sure Tony gets home okay? Agent Dunkirk can give him a lift home, perhaps."

"No, Ziva, you can't leave," Abby groaned. "It was meant to be tonight."

"There will be other nights," Ziva shrugged. She picked up her black satin clutch bag. "I'll see you all tomorrow."

"I'll walk you out," McGee offered.

"No. You stay here with Abby and Palmer," she replied. "I am perfectly capable of getting a cab on my own."

Tony and Layla joined the table moments after she left.

"You just missed Ziva," Abby said accusingly.

"She said goodbye on the way out," Tony said giving her a strange look. "You're awfully defensive there, Abs."

"I'm Abby Sciuto," Abby said, ignoring him. "I'm Ziva's best friend."

"Layla Barrett, an old college friend," Layla said either oblivious to or ignoring Abby's rudeness.

"Have a seat," McGee offered, ever the gentlemen. Abby gave him the evil eye. He gave her a questioning look but she just rolled her eyes. "I'm Timothy McGee."

"And this is Palmer," Tony said finishing off the introductions. "Ziva left pretty quickly."

"Yep," was Abby's tight-lipped answer. She turned to Layla who was now sitting next to her. "She's beautiful, isn't she?"

"Very," Layla agreed.

"I think I need another drink," Tony announced. "Anybody else?"

Layla nodded but everybody else shook their head. Tony excused himself leaving Layla at Abby's mercy.

"Ziva sleeps with a gun under her pillow, you know," she said without warning or explanation. "It's just something she does. I wouldn't want to meet her in an alleyway alone."

"I didn't get that vibe from her," Layla said. She was smiling uneasily.

"That's part of her act," Palmer said. He nodded sagely and when Layla wasn't looking he winked at Abby. She looked please to have someone else to conspire with.

"Ignore them, Layla," McGee said, glaring at them. "In fact, I think it's time we went home. Palmer looks like he's going to pass out at the table and you know what you're like with less than four hours sleep, Abby."

"I'm not ready to go home," Abby pouted.

"I'm not going to pass out," Palmer retorted. His eyes wavered for a moment and he yawned. "I guess I am a little sleepy though."

"I guess my feet are starting to hurt," Abby continued. She sighed unhappily. "Fine. We can go home but not until after I've had a talk to Tony."

"I have a better idea. Why don't you and Palmer go wait in the line for a cab and I'll talk to Tony," McGee suggested.

Layla watched him give Abby a look that he couldn't read but it seemed to appease the girl because she smiled and leaned over the table to kiss him on the cheek. Layla slid out of the booth to let Abby past.

"I'll see you around," Layla said.

"Not if I see you first," Abby replied in all seriousness. McGee nudged her from behind and she grinned. She gave Layla a quick hug. "Only joking."

She grabbed Palmer and they headed outside.

"She's a live wire, that one," Layla said nervously. "I don't think she likes me."

"Abby likes everyone. She's just... passionate and she likes to think she has control over everything," McGee explained. "She's the most loyal person you'll ever meet though."

"I can see that," Layla said mostly to herself.

"Anyway I'm going to go say a quick goodbye to Tony. It was nice to meet you," McGee said.

"You too," Layla replied.

McGee walked over to Tony who was carrying two glasses back to the table.

"You're leaving too?" Tony asked.

"We're all going," McGee answered. "Don't be an idiot, Tony. Don't screw this up."

"What are you talking about?" Tony asked. He followed McGee's eyes to Layla. "There's nothing to screw up. Layla and I are just friends."

"And I can think of two people who don't think that," McGee said. He narrowed his eyes at Tony. "If you hurt her, I'll hurt you. I promise you that I will take her side."

"I'm not going to hurt Ziva," Tony answered. "Not if I can help it."

"So you admit it. You like her."

"I more than like her, Tim," Tony replied and that was when McGee knew he was serious.

"Timmy, let's go!" Abby shouted from the doorway. She waved at him frantically.

"I'd better go," McGee said. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah. Tomorrow," Tony said distantly. He had recovered by the time he walked over to the table and sat across from Layla. "Here. A champagne cocktail. Just what the doctor ordered."

Jeanne had liked champagne cocktails too but she came from old money and privilege. They all drank champagne cocktails and Martinis like they were water. Women like Layla drank them because they were everything the women wanted to be. Classy, expensive and glamorous.

"That man has been watching you all night," Layla said, motioning to Agent Dunkirk.

"It's a long story," Tony said with a sigh. He gulped down his scotch and checked the time. "You know what, I think I should go too. Can I get you a cab?"

"No, my friends are still over there," she replied. "Are you sure you don't want to stay? We could go back to my house."

"I have to work tomorrow," he explained.

"Just for coffee," she suggested. "And some of that lemon meringue pie you used to love."

"I really can't tonight. How about tomorrow night? We can have a proper catch-up," Tony suggested. All of a sudden he felt really drunk but he knew enough to know that going to someone's house, a civilian no less, was downright stupid. Going to the bar was bad enough but at least it was a public place. It was harder to kill someone in public and not get caught what with the noise from the gunshot and the witnesses. And he felt safer with Ziva beside him, even if she was asleep, than with anyone else.

Agent Dunkirk did indeed give him a lift and alternated between watching the road and glaring at Tony. His partner simply glared at Tony the entire way and told Tony that a) they could protect him much better at Officer David's than at the bar and that b) Officer David would not be very happy with him at all in the morning. Tony didn't think Ziva had anything to be mad about. It had been her idea to go to the club and she was having as much fun as everybody else.

"Do you need some help getting inside?" Agent Livingstone asked. "I think the alcohol just hit you."

"I'm fine," Tony muttered. He struggled out of the car. "I'll see you guys tomorrow."

Agent Dunkirk snorted angrily but Tony didn't notice. He walked up the three stairs that left to Ziva's front door and he let himself in.

"I think we need to protect him from Officer David," Agent Livingstone said.

"You're not wrong," Dunkirk agreed. He yawned and looked at his watch. "Only four hours until the next shift takes over."

"Joy," Livingstone sighed. He propped himself up and peered at Ziva's house. "I wonder what's going on in there right now."

"Don't be a perve," Dunkirk grinned. He and Livingstone were best buddies and they had been the best man at each others weddings. If he was going to be stuck on surveillance and protection with anyone, it would be him.

"No seriously. What do you think is going on?"

"If DiNozzo has any sense, he'll go straight to bed and keep his mouth shut," Dunkirk replied. And that put paid to that.


	5. The Great and Mighty Oz

**NCIS**

**History Is Made At Night**

**A/N:** So I ended up re-writing half of this chapter because my stupid job gives me way too much time to think and my head says 'Genevieve, don't you think it would be better if the chapter went this way?'. I generally scoff at my head and say 'well no because I've worked really hard on this and I like it as it is, thank you very much.' But of course, my head is generally right and it is better the other way. Thanks to everyone who reviewed last chapter. I have worked really hard on this and I'm not going to lie, it sucks not getting many reviews so I doubly appreciate the ones I do get. I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint. Happy reading.

**Summary: **When Tony kills Jeanne after she reveals a secret, it's game on. If the guilt doesn't kill him, La Grenouille might. But with Ziva on his side, how can he lose? Slightly AU, set after Season Four.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own nor am I affiliated with NCIS in any way, shape or form.

**Chapter Five:** The Great and Mighty Oz

Ziva heard Tony pottering around the kitchen before she heard him stumble down the hall in the semi-darkness.

"I didn't think you would be home for awhile," Ziva said after he had entered the bedroom. She was sitting on the edge of the bed staring at the closed curtains. "You seemed to be getting along with Lyla quite well."

"Layla," Tony corrected. "And I get along better with you."

"You flatter me," Ziva said, rolling her eyes. She listened to Tony getting changed behind her. "Did the others stay long after you left?"

"Just long enough for Abby to scare the crap out of Layla," Tony answered. "Why are you staring at the wall?"

"I'm not staring at the wall. I was just thinking," she said. She moved so that she was under the blankets.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked. He lost his balance and reached out to use the wall as extra support. Clearly, the alcohol was not wearing off despite the leftovers he had scoffed down and the two glasses of water he had choked down.

"I'm thinking that Gibbs will not be impressed if you turn up hung-over tomorrow," she answered evenly. She was looking at him blearily and he could tell that she was still feeling it too.

"What are you really thinking?" Tony prodded. He kicked his clothes into a pile but after a disapproving click of the tongue from Ziva he groaned and picked them up. She was silent and contemplative as he folded them and placed them in the drawer she had cleared out for him. He flicked off the light then crawled into bed and sat next to Ziva. "You're quiet tonight."

"I'm just tired," she shrugged. She snuggled down into the blankets and he followed suit. They curled themselves around each other, like always. "My head is swirling."

"Mine too," he replied with a groan. He let out a big breath and she grimaced.

"You could have at least brushed your teeth," Ziva said. He couldn't see her in the dark and facing away from him but he could perfectly picture the look on her face. She moved away from him.

"Is it really that bad?" he asked.

"Yes, Tony, it is really that bad," she replied.

He groaned but pulled himself out of bed. When he came back, Ziva was breathing evenly and for all intents and purposes, asleep. Tony slid back into bed and laced his arms around her. He buried his nose into her dark hair. His lips found her ear and he sighed.

"I love you, Ziva," he whispered.

She said nothing back but she was smiling and after an appropriate amount of time, she moved closer to him.

* * *

"Hey," Tony said coming into the kitchen. He was wearing that light-blue shirt that she loved.

"Good morning," she replied. She was cooking something on the stove. "Are you going to be home for dinner tonight?"

"Nope, sorry. Layla and I are having dinner," he said. He came and stood beside Ziva. "What is that?"

"It's stewed apples and porridge," Ziva answered. She caught Tony's disgusted face and she smiled. "If you look in the microwave I think you will find something that you like even better."

He practically danced over to the microwave and opened it to reveal a plate of bacon and eggs. He walked over to Ziva and kissed her on the forehead.

"You," he said. "Are my favourite person in the whole world."

"Well you'll have to reheat it. It would still be warm if you didn't take so long in the shower," she mocked. "Trying to make yourself presentable for your friend Layla?"

"Why would I want to look good for Layla?" he asked. "It's just a catch-up dinner with an old friend."

"Are you sure?" Ziva asked pointedly. Tony continued to gape at her. ""Do not look at me as if I have a third eye. Tony, Layla has a major crush on you."

"No she does not," Tony scoffed. He got out a knife and fork and waited for the microwave to 'bing.' "You are a crazy woman."

"I am not crazy. She likes you and it kind of seemed like you were interested in her," Ziva said.

"Look at me, Ziva," Tony said, his voice gentle but demanding. He was frowning at her. "I have something to tell you."

"I am making sure my porridge isn't over-cooked," she replied. Tony was by her side turning her face to look at him. "If my porridge is too soft I will-"

"You'll get over it," Tony interrupted. "Ziva, I'm not interested in Layla."

"You are not?"

"No. I'm interested in you and you know it," he said. "I meant what I said last night. Sure I'd been drinking and I thought you were asleep but I did mean it."

"Mean what?" she said, raising an eyebrow. She was teasing him and they both bit back smiles.

"That I love you," he said after holding a gaze for a good thirty seconds. For the first time, his face showed a smidgen of anxiety. "You love me too don't you, Ziva?"

"Yes," she answered. She rolled her eyes and then gave him a small smile. "I love you too, Tony."

"So that's settled then," he said. "We love each other. What now?"

"Now we go to work," Ziva answered. Tony pouted and Ziva smiled. "Well first we have breakfast and then we go to work."

"Your porridge is probably over-cooked," Tony said.

"Oh shoot," Ziva muttered. She moved the pot onto another stove ring. "Look what you made me do. It's practically inedible."

Tony smiled at her innocently. He brushed a bit of her hair out of her face and tilted her face up to him. They watched each other mutely as he bought his mouth to hers. He waited for a moment, savouring the moment, before their lips met. It wasn't a long or passionate kiss by any means but it was their first kiss and neither of them would ever forget it.

"Layla doesn't like me," he said when they pulled apart.

* * *

"You're late," McGee said when Tony and Ziva entered the bullpen. They were both hiding something, he could feel it, but Gibbs came in behind them so he put

"McGee has a lead," Gibbs said putting his coffee cup on his table.

"Not a lead exactly but I can place La Grenouille's car in your area at the time of the shooting," McGee replied. "Abby and I checked out all the video footage from around Ziva's area and we have his car heading towards her street in three different cameras."

"We need more than that," Tony said. "There are a thousand different reasons that his car could be in our neighbourhood and his lawyer will trot out every single one of them. You won't be able to pin this on him."

Everybody heard him say 'our' but nobody, least of all Ziva, reacted.

"I can only think of two that would discount him," Ziva disagreed. "One, that he was not in the car and somebody else tried to kill us. Two, that he's staying in the area."

"Three, his driver got lost. Four, he had no idea where you were staying," McGee added.

"Forgive me if I'm wrong," Tony interrupted. "But we generally aren't supposed to discount our own theories, are we?"

"You started it," McGee pointed out and received a withering glare from Gibbs.

"When the perpetrator is someone like La Grenouille, we need to get into his head," Ziva explained. "If we have any chance of catching him, we have to think like him."

"Or like his lawyer at least," McGee said.

"This sucks. I just want my life back," Tony sighed. He sat down at his desk. He could feel everybody's eyes on him. He looked at each one defiantly. "I know this is my fault. I'm sorry I dragged you into this."

"You would do the same for us," Ziva replied breezily. She looked away. "We are _partners_ after all."

Tony looked at McGee who shrugged. He certainly hadn't missed the emphasis. Hiding a grin, Tony stood up. Until he was sure they could take the inevitable head-slaps from Gibbs it was business as usual for Tony and Ziva in the office.

"Is there anyway you can find out who was in the car?" Tony asked. "Maybe you and Abs can work some of your magic."

"Don't think we haven't tried," McGee answered. "We got a visual on the driver but no-one else."

"And I suppose bringing him in for questioning would be pointless," Tony sighed.

"If he knows anything do you think he's going to tell us?" Gibbs asked.

* * *

Agent Dunkirk turned up at NCIS headquarters promptly at six to escort Tony and Ziva home. After another unfruitful day, Gibbs dismissed them. They had spent most of the day making googly eyes at each other though not quite as subtly as they thought and Gibbs was sick of it. He waited until the elevator doors were closed before turning to McGee.

"Is there something going on with them that I need to know about?" he asked. He was getting sick of asking the same question but nobody would give him a straight answer. Rather, they wouldn't give him a true answer.

"Not that I'm aware of," McGee answered. He was peering at something on his screen. "Uh, boss, what time was La Grenouille released from custody?"

"Why don't you look it up," Gibbs suggested. He waited patiently while McGee typed and mouthed to himself.

"Can I have your cellphone for a minute?" McGee asked. Gibbs handed it over without question. McGee slammed the phone down on the desk. "Your gut was right. Not that I didn't believe it because of course I did. It's just now there's evidence that backs your gut up."

"Get on with it," Gibbs said, unsure whether to roll his eyes or grin at McGee's babbling. Surely the kid knew that Gibbs wasn't as scary as he came across.

"Ziva called you at five past eleven to tell you about the shooting. La Grenouille was released at ten fifty-five but he wasn't picked up until ten past eleven. There's no way he could have been there," McGee said. He looked disappointed. "Sorry, boss. I spent a whole day working out what we already knew. I can't believe I didn't pick up on it sooner."

"Just don't do it again," Gibbs ordered.

"This does suck. Ziva is right. He's the criminal and we're proving that he's innocent. It isn't fair. Tony didn't really do anything wrong and he's being punished for it. It should be the other way around," McGee argued.

"It will be," Gibbs replied. "One day, McGee, it will be."

"I really don't see how," McGee said. "He's good."

"But we're better," Abby said from the entrance to the bullpen. She was holding her bag and wearing her coat. "Right, Gibbs?"

"Right, Abs."

They had both heard her say it countless times but this time McGee wondered if maybe she was wrong.

* * *

He left the house and made his way to the car where Livingstone and Dunkirk were waiting for him.

"I owe you an apology for last night," he said to them on the way to Layla's.

"You're forgiven," Dunkirk answered. "We can't expect you to stop living your life because someone wants you dead."

"You have to show them that you're not scared," Livingstone agreed. "I'd do the same."

"So would I," Dunkirk added. They pulled up outside Layla's apartment block. "Matt and I will wait here in the car and there'll be another agent at the back."

"Got it," Tony nodded.

Layla was charming and talkative as she pottered around the kitchen getting dinner ready. They chatted amiably and caught up on the last thirteen years of each others lives.

"So Abby told me that Ziva sleeps with a gun under her pillow," Layla said, when the pie had been eaten and they were sitting on her couch. "I think she was just trying to scare me because I don't think she likes me very much."

"It's true," Tony told her. He flung his legs out onto the coffee table and sat back in the lounge.

"Hey," Layla laughed, slapping him lightly on the arm. "She doesn't even know me."

"I meant about the gun," Tony replied.

"Are you serious? What's she like?" Layla asked. She pulled her legs up onto the couch and hugged them to her chest. "I mean, there has to be some reason she sleeps with a gun under her pillow. Maybe she attracts enemies like you."

"No one attracts enemies like me," he said bitterly. He darkened for a moment but then he smiled fondly. "She's this crazy ninja-girl, Ziva. She's smart, beautiful and she drives me crazy because she can't get her damn words right. Apart from that I swear there is nothing she can't do. You should see her out on the field or in an interrogation room. If it wasn't so damn scary to watch, it'd be beautiful."

"I only met her for a moment but she seemed almost cold," Layla mused.

"She's not," Tony said sharply. "Sure, she's intimidating and some of the things she's done make me shiver but she isn't scary. In fact, she's one of the warmest people I know. It just takes awhile to get to know her. I think that and the gun thing are because of the things she saw and dealt with back in Israel."

"You really care about her, don't you?" Layla asked softly. An uneasy feeling grew in her stomach as Tony smiled languidly but she tried to push it away.

"Yeah, I do," he answered. He grinned at Layla and she smiled back.

"If I didn't know you better, I'd even go as far as to say you love her. That is that you're... in love with her," Layla said, somehow pushing the words out. The look on Tony's face told her everything she needed to know. "I see. I'm right. I wish I wasn't."

"What do you mean?" Tony asked. "You wish you weren't right?"

"What did you think you were doing here?" Layla asked.

"I thought we were two old college buddies catching up," he replied. "Am I wrong?"

"You know I was in love with you all the way through college," Layla answered. She was looking at her hands and at her feet and at the brown spot on the floor and anywhere that wasn't Tony, something he didn't miss. "I guess I just thought that, well, Well, I guess I thought that running into you like that at the club was like fate. Like I had been given another chance. I guess I was wrong."

"I'm sorry, Layla, I didn't mean to lead you on," Tony said earnestly. He took her hand and with his free hand, turned her face to look at him. "We're old friends, you and I, but I'm with Ziva."

"I should have seen it," she muttered. "All the signs were there and I only saw you together for all of three minutes. But she left and you stayed to have a drink with me and I thought..."

"It's a new thing, me and Ziva," Tony admitted. He wasn't sure if the admission would make her feel better or worse but he was trying this new thing where he told the whole truth. If the gorgeous brunette waiting for him at home was any indication then it was certainly working for him. "We're just finding out feet. In fact, we weren't officially together last night."

"So I was only a little bit too late?" Layla asked. Tony was still holding her hand. She wanted to pull hers away but he wouldn't let her. Tony could see her heart breaking and he hated knowing it was he who had broken it.

"Not really. I've been in love with her since day dot. It just took me a while to realise it. No, it took me awhile to get the guts to act on it. I am sorry I can't love you," he said. "And I'm sorry for getting your hopes up. I swear I didn't mean to."

"What is wrong with me? What does Ziva have that I don't?" Layla asked as her eyes welled up with tears.

"There is nothing wrong with you," Tony practically barked. He hated to see women put themselves down. "Layla, you are beautiful and any guy would be thrilled and lucky to have you."

"Except you," she sniffled.

"I'd be lucky to have you too but you wouldn't be lucky to have me," he disagreed. "I've changed since college. I'm not the same Tony I used to be and I think I would disappoint you and I wouldn't want to disappoint anyone. And worst of all, my heart would always be somewhere else."

"I feel like such an idiot," she cried. "I am so stupid."

"You're not stupid," Tony said. He pulled her closer and rubbed her back. "Come here."

She cried for a little bit longer and when she was done she sniffled and dabbed her eyes with her sleeve.

"I'm sorry," she murmured.

"Don't be sorry," he replied with a smile.

He stood up. "I should go. It was really good catching up with you."

"You don't have to be polite," she sighed.

"I really meant it," he replied. He leant down and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Don't be a stranger, okay?"

"Sure," she smiled though she didn't mean either She watched him walk over to the door. He turned to give her one last smile before he left. "Tony?"

"Yeah."

"It's good that you told Ziva," she answered. "Otherwise you may have left it too late and take it from me. It sucks."

Tony left the apartment and stood at the top of the stairs. He pulled out his phone and dialled Ziva's number.

"That was quick," she answered on the second ring. "Or are you calling to say you won't be coming home?"

"The latter. It never would have worked out between you and me anyway. Layla is much less... maintenance. No, actually, I'm leaving now," he replied with a laugh. "And I think we need to talk when I get home."

"About what?" she asked.

"About how you were right and I should never doubt you again. Layla does, or did, have a thing for me. I set her straight about you and me though so don't worry," he added quickly.

"You and me, hey? I like the sound of that," Ziva said, beaming into the phone. "Hurry home, Tony. But be careful. I have a bad feeling."

"I'm always careful," he replied with a smile. He hung up and with a smile on his face began to walk downstairs. He made it to the third floor and was met by La Grenouille. "This is a surprise. How did you get past the doors?"

"There's an unarmed fire exit," Rene answered in his deep accented voice.

"I just thought you should know that I'm unarmed," Tony said, keeping his voice somewhat even. "Not only will you be killing a Federal agent but you'll be killing an unarmed Federal agent. And I won't fight back so it won't be self-defence."

"You are very brave, Agent DiNozzo, but I am not here to kill you," he responded. His eyes were downcast and he looked ashamed. Tony had to look twice to make sure he was seeing what he was seeing. Their eyes met and Tony frowned. "I made a big mistake sending Jeanne to you. I over-estimated you. Or maybe I under-estimated her. Either way, things did not turn out how they were supposed to and for that I must pay, not you."

"So you came here to tell me you forgive me?" Tony asked, confused.

"I came to tell you that I am turning myself in," La Grenouille answered. "Without Jeanne, what is the point? I have more money than I need but no-one to spend it on. I have more friends and connections than I count but I only truly loved one of them. I have houses in five different countries but no-one to live in them with. I was a father but instead of protecting my daughter, I sent her to her death. I will never forgive myself. I may as well have pulled the trigger myself."

"So you're turning yourself in?" Tony repeated.

"What else can I do?" he replied.

"You could have run. Whether you're in jail or not, you're still going to have to live with the guilt. A man like you could have disappeared off the face of the earth and lived out your days in obscurity. Do you really think you'll survive in jail? Because I don't think you will. No-one drinks cognac or wears expensive suits in jail," Tony said.

"I said I was turning myself in. I never said I was going to jail," La Grenouille corrected him. "I will clear my conscience but I will not be going to jail."

"I don't think that's your choice," Tony disagreed. He looked around wishing for backup, a gun or at the very least, handcuffs.

"You needn't worry, Agent DiNozzo. I will come with you willingly to your headquarters. I am sure there are people who will be wanting to talk to me," La Grenouille said in a disturbingly calm tone.

"You know if your aim was slightly better, you could have killed my partner," Tony said. His voice was emotionless and light but his eyes were dark and accusing.

"Ah yes. The gunshots fired at your partner's house. I heard about that but I was not involved. As I am sure you will come to see, I was still at NCIS when the attack occurred," La Grenouille answered.

"But your car was spotted near the scene. We have it on video," Tony murmured, working it all out in his head. "Then if it wasn't you, you ordered someone to do it."

"I swear to you that it was none of my men," La Grenouille said and Tony, for some reason he couldn't explain, believed him.

"Do you have any idea who it was?" Tony prodded anyway.

"I only know who it wasn't," he retorted. He sighed. "I'm getting bored now. Are you going to arrest me?"

"Arrest you for what? You haven't admitted to anything. I'm simply taking you down town for a chat," Tony replied. Just before they exited, he stopped. "I truly am sorry for what happened to Jeanne. I replay it in my head every day and I probably always will. But you are right. It is your fault and you should feel bad."

"You are telling me what I already know, Anthony DiNozzo, and what I have already told you," he replied.

Livingstone and Dunkirk were running towards the door with their hands on their guns a millisecond after Tony opened the front door.

"There is no need for the guns," La Grenouille announced. "I am unarmed and alone. I come in... peace."

Tony stifled a laugh as he motioned for the agents to put their guns away.

"I told Mr. Benoit that we would give him a lift to NCIS," Tony said.

"It'll be our pleasure," Livingstone agreed.

"I'll give them a call, let them know to expect us," Dunkirk agreed.

When they were on their way, La Grenouille turned to Tony.

"Who do you suppose will interview me?" he wanted to know.

"Probably Gibbs. Maybe even the Director herself," Tony shrugged. "It depends who's in a good mood and who's in a bad mood."

"A pity it won't be you. I so enjoyed our last time in there together," La Grenouille grinned.

"I myself am not so disappointed," Tony said, rubbing his neck.

* * *

Tony and Ziva were gaping at Gibbs in disbelief.

"You can't be serious, Gibbs," Ziva scoffed.

"Yeah I'm not sure it's the best idea. I just arrested him at his daughters funeral. It's probably not the best idea for us to be in a room alone together," Tony agreed.

"You won't exactly be alone, DiNozzo, and I'm not exactly asking," Gibbs said.

"The great and mighty Oz has spoken," Tony muttered.

"Ziva, you can join him," Gibbs decided.

"I want to kill him, Gibbs. Not interrogate him," Ziva replied darkly.

"Then I guess it's a good thing you're being recorded," Gibbs said. He let himself into the observation room and waited. It took them a good two minutes but Tony and Ziva walked into the interrogation room and took the seats across from La Grenouille.

"What a surprise," La Grenouille said. A sly grin spread across his face. "The murderer and his accomplice."

"Officer David had nothing to do with Jeanne's death," Tony said smoothly. "And if I were you, I would refrain from implying it again."

"She is an assassin, is she not? If I am told correctly she was once tasked with killing me," La Grenouille replied.

"Not tasked with killing you but tasked with covering Dr. Mallard," Ziva corrected him. She pushed her chair further away from the table and sat on her hands. "But that is not why we are here, Mr. Benoit. We are here to question you."

"Question me about what exactly?" he asked. "You arrested me on what are clearly phony charges."

"We didn't arrest you on phony charges. We arrested you on very real charges. You've been accused of supplying guns and ammunition to terrorist organisations operating both on and off American soil. The French government is very interested in talking to you as well. And believe me, we will have no trouble organising your extradition. I've heard that French prisons aren't exactly a walk in the park," Tony answered.

"Is that so? Where is that evidence? And while we're at it, where is the evidence that you killed my daughter in self-defence?" La Grenouille asked.

"This interview is not about that," Ziva butted in. She stood up and began to walk in long strides around the table. "Though while we're at it, who supplied the gun that Jeanne used to try and kill my partner? Was it you, Mr. Benoit?"

"I thought this interview wasn't about that," he pointed out. "But since you have asked, I would answer no. My daughter didn't get her gun for me. I was unaware that she owned one or that she knew how to shoot."

"Clearly she didn't know how to shoot," Ziva disagreed. "If she did, my partner would be dead and I would be talking to her right now. That is providing she was still alive."

"How dare you!" he yelled. "Already I have to live with the fact my daughter is gone at your 'partners' hand but now you disrespect her. Didn't your mother ever tell you not to disrespect the dead?"

"My mother died before she could pass that tidtid on," Ziva replied.

"She means tidbit," Tony explained drily.

"Now is not the time, Tony," Ziva huffed.

"What Officer David is trying to say is that we will find out where the gun came from and we will tie it back to you," Tony said, taking over. "Once we do that it won't be hard for us to tie all the weapons we have confiscated from certain terrorist groups and gangs over the years back to you. It's only a matter of time."

"So what you mean to say is that you have no hard evidence and that you legally cannot keep me here?" La Grenouille asked. He chuckled. "How amateur."

"No, we have evidence. If we didn't have evidence, we would never have been given a warrant to arrest you," Tony replied. "You under-estimate us."

"You may have evidence, Agent DiNozzo, but I can assure you it will not stick," La Grenouille replied. He saw Tony and Ziva exchange a glance and that was confirmation enough. They were biding their time and looking for the clincher, the final piece of the puzzle that proved what they already knew. But they would never find it.

"That's what you think," Tony tried.

Ziva simply sank back down on the seat across the table. She traced circles on the desk with her fingers.

"You seem restless, Officer David," La Grenouille noted.

"I am awaiting the day that we put you up in the cell and throw away the key. If I'm restless, it's because it is not today," she shrugged.

"You want me out of the way because you believe I want to kill Agent DiNozzo. Is this not true? I sense a connection between the two of you."

"We are partners," Ziva replied evenly. "When he is in danger, I am in danger too. Surely you can't fault me for not wanting to have to look over my shoulder every two seconds."

"Of course not. But you only have your partner to blame for that. If he had not killed Jeanne then he would not be in this predicament," La Grenouille answered.

"Let me remind you again that it is not his fault. Did you really expect a trained, armed Federal agent to stand there and take a bullet and not fight back? You may as well have pulled the trigger yourself," Ziva snapped. She stood up again and walked over to stand beside Rene. She leaned close to his ear. "I do not regret that your daughter is dead and I never will. I only regret that you are still alive."

"Are you threatening me?" the prisoner asked. He glance over at Tony who had a very worried look on his face.

"If I was threatening you, you would know," Ziva replied. She looked at Tony. "If I don't leave now, I might hurt him."

"Off you go," Tony shrugged nonchalantly. "I can handle this by myself."

Ziva left the room in a huff and joined Gibbs in the observation room.

"Did I leave in time?" she asked.

"You didn't hit him so I'd say yeah, you left in time," Gibbs replied.

"Do you really think La Grenouille will talk to Tony?" she wanted to know.

"Do you think he will?" Gibbs asked back.

"No," she answered. She rested her hands on the ledge under the window. "I am just hoping that he threatens Tony. If we have it on record, maybe we can use it against him."

"I don't think it will take long for that," Gibbs replied. They were both watching as Tony and La Grenouille engaged in a death stare.

"Before I killed her, Jeanne told me that you were planning on bringing Jenny Shepherd down. I'd like to know why and what exactly you thought could be bad enough to do so," Tony finally said, breaking the silence. "I figure that since you don't want to answer any questions we have on your charges that maybe we could have a little chat about that instead."

"You are aware that it is your word against a dead woman's," La Grenouille replied. "I can see how it would be easy for people to believe you when there is no-one to disagree."

"Why don't you tell me what you think happened that night then," Tony suggested.

"I believe that Jeanne came wanting to get back together with you and that you denied her. Perhaps she drew her gun in an attempt to scare you. You over-reacted and shot her. Jeanne was a doctor. You of all people should know that she put people back together, not tore them apart," La Grenouille answered. "I hear that you tore her apart well and truly. Three bullets to the torso, was it?"

"Something like that," Tony shrugged. He blinked the memories and the feel of her blood against his hands away. "I assure you, Jeanne did not want to get back together with me. She wanted me dead. Maybe your story would have more credibility if an attempt hadn't been made on Jenny Shepherd's life earlier that day. It's rather coincidental that mere hours after a bomb went off in her car that your daughter turned up on my doorstep claiming to have information that would bring her down. Of course she didn't tell me that until after she pulled a gun on me. I guess she figured that she was going to kill me so it didn't matter what she told me. There was only one problem with that though."

"And what was that problem, Agent DiNozzo?"

"She missed," he said coolly.

"You son of a bitch," La Grenouille snapped suddenly. "You have no remorse whatsoever for killing her."

"You're the son of a bitch," Tony yelled. He stood up and slapped his hands down on the table. "I am sorry for killing Jeanne. You, however, you're not sorry for anything. You may never have physically killed someone but you have sold guns and bombs and ammunition to people who do. As far as I'm concerned that is just as bad. How many mothers and children have died because of your trade? Where is your remorse for that? Actually, on second thoughts, maybe I'm not sorry for killing Jeanne. Maybe by taking her one life, I'll save more. The way you feel right now is nothing compared to the pain a man who has lost his whole family feels. I don't know how and I don't know when but I swear that we will bring you down, Rene. We will bring you down and we will watch you burn."

"And I swear you will not be around to see it happen. I will kill you before you have the chance to do anything, you worthless piece of scum," La Grenouille shot-back.

"Good luck with that," Tony replied. "Your daughter tried and she failed."

With one steady motion La Grenouille was up off the table and had Tony pinned to the table, his hands around his throat. Within seconds he was being pulled off and he was thrown onto the floor.

"Get up," Gibbs ordered. He and Ziva had their guns trained on him. "I said get up."

He pulled himself off the floor. Gibbs told him to sit back down at the table and cuffed him. Ziva lowered her gun and went to help Tony. He was rubbing his neck and looking quite pissed off.

"He tried to kill me," he muttered. "In an interrogation room of all places."

"I think you two should go home," Gibbs replied.

"But boss..." Tony argued.

"Now," Gibbs ordered.

"Come, Tony. Let's go," Ziva said. She prodded him out of the room. Just before they get to the door she turned back to Gibbs. "It's probably best if we do not tell Abby about this."

"She's not going to hear it from me," Gibbs agreed taking a seat across from La Grenouille.

"Or me," Tony said with a nod. "Definitely not from me."


	6. All Very Civil

**NCIS**

**History Is Made At Night**

**A/N:** This is the second last chapter. The next chapter is going to be more an epilogue than anything. The ending of this is kind of weak but I was struggling with it. Hope you enjoy it.

**Summary:**When Tony kills Jeanne after she reveals a secret, it's game on. If the guilt doesn't kill him, La Grenouille might. But with Ziva on his side, how can he lose? Slightly AU, set after Season Four.

**Disclaimer:**I do not own nor am I affiliated with NCIS in any way, shape or form.

**Chapter Six:** All Very Civil

"Abby?" Ziva called to the seemingly empty lab. The glass door that separated Abby's desk from the rest of the lab slid open and Ziva made her way in. Abby was sitting at the desk serenely. "What are you doing in here?"

"I have paperwork to do to you know," she replied. "Have a seat."

"I can't stay long but I need to tell you something," Ziva said, sitting down. "Tony told me he loved me last night and then again this morning."

Abby let out the highest, most piercing squeal that Ziva had ever heard. She jumped up from the desk and threw her arms around Ziva.

"Why didn't you tell me immediately?" she asked. "When? How? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Calm down. I am not telling you anything else until you are calm," Ziva said. She waited until Abby was calm and was sitting back down. "He told me last night when he came home but he seemed pretty drunk and he thought I was asleep."

"We were all pretty drunk," Abby pointed out. "And he clearly just told you when you were asleep because... Sorry. Shutting up and listening now."

"Then this morning he came into the kitchen while I was making breakfast and I was asking him about Layla," Ziva started to explain. She saw Abby's mouth open and shut when she mentioned Layla. "And he told her he wasn't interested in her because he's interested in me and then he told me he loved me."

"Did you say it back?" Abby asked. She clapped her hands in delight when Ziva nodded. "Oh I knew it. I am so happy for you."

"I don't know where we go from here," Ziva admitted. "And he's staying at my house. What happens when this is all over? Does he officially move in or does he go back to his place? We haven't even been together for twenty-four hours. Not to mention Gibbs and our jobs. There is so much to think about."

"That's all just incidental. You'll work it out," Abby said. She fixed her eyes on Ziva's. "If you back out of this now, I swear I will hurt you."

"I'm not going to back out," Ziva said. She gave a little sigh that reminded Abby that deep down she really _was_ just a girl.

"He makes you happy," Abby stated.

"Yes, he does. Even when he's being incorrigible, annoying, conceited and getting himself almost killed. Actually, I should probably go. He'll be wondering where I am," Ziva said, standing up.

"Wait, wait," Abby said pouting. "I want to hear all the juicy details. Have you made out yet? Held hands? Slept together? I need to know everything."

"He sleeps in my bed, Abby," Ziva said with a laugh. She was teasing the forensic scientist but Abby didn't like to be teased and she didn't like to be left out. "We kissed twice, that's all."

"Well I want to know when anything else happens like if he proposes or he buys you a puppy or something," Abby demanded.

"He is not going to propose," Ziva gasped.

"Well, he might. One day. In the future. When, you know, you've had time to be together and realise what we already know," Abby retorted. "Anyway, I want to know any big things even if they happen at 4.12 in the morning."

"That is very specific, Abby. Did something particular happen to you at 4.12?" Ziva asked. Abby looked away with a grin and Ziva laughed. "I really have to go. Tony is waiting."

"Tell him I said hey. And I'm glad he's okay. And I'm glad La Grenouille didn't kill him," Abby ordered.

"Will do," Ziva agreed. She gave Abby a last smile and glided from the room. She glanced back quickly and smiled to herself.

Abby was jumping up and down in joy.

* * *

Ziva let herself into the observation room. Gibbs and Jenny were watching La Grenouille write his confession. Occasionally one of them would say something but for the most part, it was quiet. From her brief look, Ziva could tell that Jenny was itching to begin the questioning and that having Gibbs in the room was the only thing stopping her.

Tony turned around when Ziva closed the door behind her. She closed the space between them quickly and stood looking up at him. Tentatively she placed her hand on his cheek.

"Are you okay? Did he hurt you?" she asked.

"No," he replied, loving the feel of her hand on his face. He placed his hand over hers. "He didn't touch me. It was all very civil."

"I am glad," she said. She left her hand there for a moment and then she pulled it away. They stood side-by-side and peered into interrogation.

"Jenny is being very calm. I expected her to crack by now," Tony said.

"Jenny Shepherd can be ice-cold when she needs to be," Ziva said, having seen the Director as a field agent. "She can also be very persuasive. I once saw her get a man to admit he had explosives hidden in his fields. The rest of us, including me, thought he was just a farmer."

"Who was he?" Tony asked.

"His name was Evan Heber. He headed a terrorist group called 'Ashes to Ashes' that targeted Christian groups in African countries where Islam was the main religion. She saved lot of lives and gained a lot of respect that day. Jenny should never have given up being a field agent. She was too good," Ziva said. "But in all my years of knowing her, I have never seen her this intent on bringing someone down."

"Revenge is a good motivator," Tony shrugged. "She's still convinced he killed her father."

"No," Ziva disagreed. "Jenny made her peace with that. She realises that her father killed himself, plain and simple."

"She blames La Grenouille for giving him the bribe though," Tony pointed out. He saw Ziva briefly close her eyes and he decided it was time for a subject change. "How did you know about Layla?"

"I just did. It was obvious. She smiled too brightly when you talked to her and she touched you on the shoulder. I really can't see how you missed it. You who is always bragging your way with women," she replied. "Did she take it badly?"

"I don't think she's going to put a bomb in my car or fish in my desk," Tony said with a shrug. "She was upset and she cried which made me feel horrible. She said she was happy for us though. You know, the first thing she said when I told her about us was 'I should have known.' How come it took us so long to figure it out?"

"Us? No, Tony, I knew it almost right away. It was you who took forever to figure it out," she answered, shaking her head.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked. She moved so she was standing in front of him. He put his hand on her hip and she sighed. "I did, didn't I?"

"Yes but it is okay. You did not do it intentionally. I know that," she answered. She looked up at him. "Anyway, it does not matter now. All that matters is that we are together now."

"Does that mean I can call you my girlfriend?" he asked, a big grin growing on his face. "That is so going to earn me even more locker room bragging privileges. Sleeping with Ziva David, kissing Ziva David whenever I want, touching Ziva David whenever I want. This is going to be so much fun. Every guy in this entire building is going to be jealous."

"I am glad that all I am to you is a trophy," she said drily. She tilted her head up at him. "And I see a lot of talking and not a lot of kissing going on."

He dutifully obeyed her and kissed her. The kiss was interrupted when the door to the observation room opened. Tony and Ziva flew away from each other and fixed their attention on the other side of the glass.

"I better not have just seen what I think I saw," Gibbs said.

"And if you did?" Ziva asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Just tell me," Gibbs replied. "I'm sick and tired of being lied to you when it comes to you two."

"We haven't broken any rules yet so you can't exactly be mad at us but yes, you did just see what you think you saw," Tony answered. "We are a couple."

'A couple of unemployed people,' he wanted to say but instead he gazed at them. It was about time.

"Gibbs?" Ziva said after a moment of silence. She walked over and stood before him. "I know you can't be thrilled about this but we are. We don't need your blessing but we would like it."

"Fine. You have my blessing but-"

"We know the drill. No being a couple at work, blah blah blah," Tony interrupted. "This is a good thing, boss."

"I know, DiNozzo," Gibbs answered. He never failed to shock them. "I'm just surprised that it took you so long to get it together."

"I will never understand you," Tony said shaking his head.

Jenny tapped on the window and peered in, even though she couldn't see anything.

"He's ready to talk," she said to them.

"I have to go. You two stay here and observe," he said, putting the emphasis on 'observe.'

"Are you sure you want to be in there? It might get ugly," Tony asked. He was met with a withering stare. "Of course you do otherwise you wouldn't be in there. I'm just going to shut up now and observe."

Gibbs left the room. Ziva immediately took up position next to Tony. His hand found hers and they smiled at each other as their fingers laced together. Tony kissed her on the forehead and as he did, Gibbs looked at the window. Sometimes they thought that Abby had it right and he really was magic.

"So Gibbs knows now," Tony said, ignoring the glance. There was no possible way he could have known. No way at all. "Now we just have to tell Abby, McGee and Ducky."

"Abby knows," Ziva disagreed. Tony gave her an unsurprised look. "What? She is my best friend. Of course she knows. Besides, she would have killed me if I didn't tell her."

"Was she excited?" he asked.

"Excited is an understatement," she replied. Someone knocked at the door and she went to get it. "Oh. You."

"Did you really think I wouldn't be here?" Michael Kort asked. He pushed past her and looked into the interrogation room. "You two really don't need to be here. This interview is going to be over in less than two minutes."

"You know he deserves to be punished," Tony said.

"That isn't up to me," Kort shrugged. "Besides, he has been an invaluable source of information."

"You think he's really on your side? I assure you that every tip-off or piece of Intel he has given you has been something he can afford to tell you. He hasn't really give you anything," Tony continued. "He kills people for a living and you're letting him get away. Can you really live with that on your conscience?"

"Easily," Kort replied. "Besides, Mr. Benoit will not be in the business for much longer."

"And you are taking control," Ziva muttered, putting all the pieces together in her head. "I would wish you good luck with it but really, I hope you end up dead."

"Sticks and stones, Officer David," he leered at her. Tony put a protective hand on her back and Kort grinned. "You two finally got it together then."

"You should concern yourself less with us and concern yourself more with how Director Shepherd and Gibbs are going to react," Ziva replied.

"I'm not worried about them," he said. "It was a pleasure to see you both again."

"Jenny is going to be unimpressed," Tony said.

Ziva nodded and pressed up against him. He put his arm around her shoulder and she snuggled in. On the other side of the glass, Jenny was yelling at La Grenouille who was staring back at her with a defiant look. Gibbs was watching them warily. The door opened and Kort walked in. Jenny turned her anger on him and they got into a furious fight. Eventually Gibbs stood up. He took Jenny by the arm and he led her to the door and shoved her into the hallway.

"You are both going to regret this," he said before joining Jenny in the hallway.

They came into the observation room.

"You should have warned us," Gibbs snapped.

"We didn't have time," Tony replied.

"Or maybe you were too busy playing happy couples with each other," he retorted back.

"You're a couple?" Jenny asked Ziva.

"It is, uh, new," Ziva explained before turning her level gaze on Gibbs. "What would warning you have done anyway? Kort was still going to get La Grenouille off."

"He told me he wasn't going to go to jail," Tony said. He shook his head at himself. "I didn't even consider this. I forgot he was working for the CIA. At least we have it on paper. You know, the gun smuggling and all that."

"We are never going to beat him," Jenny sighed. It surprised them to see her so despondent. "He can't be beaten."

"Of course he can. He is only human," Ziva disagreed. "Remember Evan Heber and Charles Gurion? We thought they could not be beaten and look where they are now. Heber is dead and Gurion is going to be in jail for the rest of his life. And that is only two people out of many that we have stopped. We are Team Gibbs. We do not give up even when it seems impossible."

"She's right," Tony agreed. "We don't give up even when someone wants us dead."

"There's no use talking about this tonight. There's nothing else we can do. Tony, Ziva, go home," Gibbs ordered.

"Before you go," Jenny said. "I assume there's going to be no problem working and being together."

"No problem at all. We will be completely professional," Ziva answered for them.

Jenny and Gibbs watched them take each others hand as soon as they left the interrogation room. Gibbs went to complain but Jenny touched his arm.

"You dismissed them. They aren't at work any more," she pointed out.

"How are you, Jen?" he asked.

"Disappointed," she admitted. "I really thought we had him this time."

"We will get him, Jen. I promise," Gibbs said. She nodded at him. "You should go home. Get some sleep."

"You're always telling me to get sleep," she said with a smile.

"Because you never get any," he replied.

* * *

"So I guess there's just McGee to tell now," Tony said as he pulled a grey long-sleeve shirt over his head. "He reckons he's always the last to know anyway."

"And Ducky," Ziva called from the bathroom.

"Please. As soon as Gibbs knew, Ducky knew. You don't think he went down to Autopsy right away? Or maybe not down to autopsy because Ducky's probably gone home but trust me, Ducky already knows," Tony said back. Ziva came out in her running gear. "You going for a run?"

"I didn't go this morning," she replied. "Is that okay?"

"You can do what you want," he shrugged but she could tell he was disappointed.

"What?" she asked, tying her hair up with an elastic.

"It's just that we haven't really spent any time together since, well, since this morning," he replied.

"It's just a run, Tony," she said. She went over and kissed him quickly on the lips. "I promise we will spend the rest of the night together. Okay?"

"I suppose," he grumbled.

"I will make you something to eat before you go. You would like that, yes?" she offered.

"No, no, You go for your run. I'll amuse myself," he said.

"Okay," she said. She wrinkled her nose up at him like she did sometimes and gave him another quick kiss. "I will be back soon."

He went to the kitchen and engrossed himself in preparing a surprise dessert. Someone knocked at the door and with a frown, he went to open it. Helen Berkeley stood there in a cream coloured trench coat.

"Are you going to ask me in?" she asked.

"Now is not a good time," he replied. "Sorry."

He went to close the door but she stopped him. He gazed out onto the street. The unsubtle surveillance car was gone.

"I just want to talk," she tried again. "About Jeanne. I need closure and you're the only person I can get it from."

"Fine but you should know we're not alone," he caved. She had played the guilt card, after all. He let her in and showed her to the living room. "Take a seat. Can I get you cup of tea?"

"And risk you calling for back-up?" she asked. She shook her head and untied her trench coat. "I don't think so."

"I thought you just wanted to talk," Tony said, confused. "Why would I call for back-up?"

"Because you killed my daughter. You might think I want revenge and you would be absolutely right," Helen replied.

"Killing Jeanne was an accident and you know it. If you want to blame someone, maybe you should talk to your ex-husband. You should know, though, that he's turned himself in," Tony said.

"He'll back on the streets within an hour," Helen said, rolling her eyes. She looked closer at Tony. "Or maybe he already is. He has friends in high places."

"Don't I know it," Tony sighed. "Why don't we just cut the crap and you tell me why you're here?"

"I told you, Tony, revenge," she answered. "You broke my little girls heart. I'd like to say I'm going to make you pay but I won't. I'm going to kill you instead."

"That seems a little extensive for a broken heart," Tony said. Mentally he was telling himself to shut-up but he never did listen to himself. "A broken finger or a black eye might suffice."

Helen was not amused and the gun she pulled from an interior pocket proved so.

"I've carefully considered the best way to do this. At first I thought I would kill your partner but as you know that plan failed. My second choice was to put a bullet in your head and be done with it but where's the fun in that? You wouldn't suffer, you'd just fall to the floor and you'd be dead. I thought about shooting you in the heart or the lungs but that isn't always fatal. I thought I might shoot you in the torso as some kind of poetic justice but that still didn't seem right. So I thought I'd just aim the gun and shoot. It'll be messy and you'll be in a lot of pain. I thought I might start with the foot, just so you can get used to it," Helen explained. "Are you ready?"

"Do it," Tony said seriously. "And I'll tell you the same thing I told Jeanne."

"What? That your team will find out what happened and they'll kill me? I'm not scared of them. I have nothing left. I'm ready to die," Helen yelled. "Because of you I have nothing left to live for."

"Right. Let's see if you feel the same way when you have a gun that will not miss pointed between your eyes or when you've spent ten minutes in a room alone with Ziva or one minute in a room alone with Gibbs."

"I'm not scared of them," Helen repeated.

"You should be," a voice said from behind her.

Helen whipped around and pointed her gun at the front door. Ziva stepped inside and very calmly took a step towards Helen.

"I'll kill you too. I swear I will," Helen said.

"You're not going to be killing anyone," Dunkirk said from the kitchen door.

Agent Livingstone came up behind him and another agent hovered behind Ziva.

"There are too many of us now," Ziva pointed out. "Put down your gun, Doctor Berkeley, and we can talk about this."

"You haven't done anything wrong yet," Tony continued. He looked on nervously as Ziva took small steps towards Helen who alternated between pointing her gun at the agents in the kitchen, the agent at the door and Tony and Ziva. He wanted to squeeze his eyes shut when Ziva grabbed the gun in her hand. She gently took the gun from Helen and immediately clicked the safety on.

"He killed my daughter," Helen whispered. She looked up at Ziva whose face wore a genuinely concerned expression. Tears pooled in her eyes and soon they were so full that the tears couldn't be contained. "Have you ever lost a child? Nothing can prepare you for that. A mother is not supposed to bury her child."

"No, I agree. But killing Tony would not solve anything and it would not bring her back. You are hurting and I am sorry for that," Ziva said. She glanced at Tony quickly. They both had tears in their eyes.

"He killed my daughter," Helen repeated over and over again. Her words went from whispers to hysterical screams. Over and over again, she repeated the words. The agents turned their backs to the display of grief. Tony forced himself to watch it knowing that it was he who had, in part, caused it. Ziva shocked everybody and pulled Helen into an embrace. The older woman fought it at first but eventually she gave in and let herself be held. She fell to the ground and Ziva followed. She was bent over weeping when there was a commotion at the front door.

La Grenouille walked in and saw his ex-wife crumbled on the ground. He looked away briefly and composed himself.

"Helen," he said in his deep voice. "Helen, let's go."

"I'm not going anywhere with you," she shouted.

"Yes, you are," he answered simply. He held a hand out to her. After a few seconds of staring at it, she took it. He put his arm around her and he led her to the door. He settled her in the back seat of the limousine before coming back into the house. Everybody tensed and put their hands on their guns. "Relax. I am unarmed. I just wanted to tell you that this is over. We will not bother you again. This will be the last time you see me. I promise you that."

"You expect us to just believe you?" Tony asked.

"I may do things that to you are despicable but I am a man of my word, Agent DiNozzo. We will not bother you again," he repeated.

He turned around and made his way to the limousine and hopped in. Everybody was silent as it drove away.

"I guess you guys can go home now," Tony said to the protection detail.

"Yeah right," Livingstone said, rolling his eyes.

"For starters we have an incident report to fill out. And I don't doubt that there will be questions," Dunkirk added. He shook his head. "I don't know how you two handle it."

"It's all in a days work," Tony shrugged. He sniffed the air and groaned. "I think dessert is ruined. You couldn't have taken it out of the oven on your way through, could you?"

"Excuse me for thinking your life was more important," Dunkirk shot-back. "We should go. We need to put a BOLO out for La Grenouille and Dr. Berkeley among other things."

"Do you want to stay for dessert?" Ziva asked.

"We would but we won't," Livingstone replied. He smiled to himself when he saw Tony and Ziva release breaths they probably didn't even realise they were holding. "We do have to ask Tony some questions first."

Ziva went into the kitchen and pulled the ruined apple crumble out of the oven. She ordered the pizza and when she came back into the living room the agents had gone and Tony was talking to Gibbs on his mobile. He hung up after a few minutes and patted the spot next to him. Ziva curled up next to him and rested her head against his chest. His arm went around her and they clasped hands.

"Do you really think it's over?" she asked.

"I do. Do you?" he replied. He felt her nodding against his chest. "If I never have a gun pointed at me again, it will be too soon."

"I agree," she said. "I do not like seeing you in danger."

"Yeah, I know," he replied. "Hey, how did you and the agents know that I was in danger?"

"It was just good timing, really. They pulled up just as Helen was going into the house and I realised I forgot my phone so I came back to get it. We listened outside for a minute and then we came in," she explained. "I don't think you were really in danger though."

"You were really good with her when she was crying," Tony told her. He kissed her hair. "I was kind of surprised when she lost it but you handled it really well."

"I did my job," she shrugged. She nestled further into his chest. "This is the first night we really get to spend together."

"I swear if all our days are as hectic as this one, we are going to kill ourselves," Tony sighed.

"We have things to talk about," Ziva said. "Like where are you going to live now that its safe to go home and how-"

She was silenced by Tony putting a finger on her lips.

"That's all stuff we can talk about later. Right now I just want to sit with my girlfriend and maybe watch a movie," he said. "Okay?"

"Okay," she agreed. She settled herself back on his chest. She could feel him playing with her hair as they watched a television show that made him laugh. She liked the feel of his rumbling chest under her head, liked the feel of his mouth on her hair when he bent down to kiss her. She closed her eyes and just listened to him breathing and laughing.

Tony looked down at her and smiled to himself. 'My girlfriend,' he thought. And then he thought that there had to be a word stronger than girlfriend to describe what he was to her. Lover, partner, soul mate and maybe even one day, wife. But for now she was his girlfriend and he her boyfriend. And that made him smile more than anything else had all day.

"I love you," he whispered into her hair.

"Mmm, love you too," she whispered back. And how she did.


	7. Mortality

**NCIS**

**History Is Made At Night**

**A/N:** Here is the last chapter. It was going to be a fluffy epiloguey thing but as you will see, it didn't quite turn out that way. I suppose I needed full closure and a tiny bit more action/angst. There is quite a bit of gooey stuff too so don't despair. I have loved working on this and I hope you have loved reading it. Thanks for the reviews and the support.

**Summary:**When Tony kills Jeanne after she reveals a secret, it's game on. If the guilt doesn't kill him, La Grenouille might. But with Ziva on his side, how can he lose? Slightly AU, set after Season Four.

**Disclaimer:**I do not own nor am I affiliated with NCIS in any way, shape or form.

**Chapter Seven:** Mortality

It was dark outside and raining. It rained constantly these days and Ziva was going crazy. She let herself into her house and carried the groceries into the kitchen. She took her jacket off and shook the water off before hanging it on the back of a chair. Something was bubbling on the stove and it smelt delicious. She looked into the pot and stirred it a little.

"Hands off," Tony ordered from the doorway.

"I was helping," she replied. She walked over and kissed him hello. "I bought you those shortbread cookies you like."

"You are the best," he told her.

He had moved into her place a week after La Grenouille and Helen had disappeared. It may have seemed too quick to some people, and it certainly hadn't been without its troubles and arguments, but a year later they were still going strong.

They busied themselves in the kitchen. Ziva unpacked the few bags of groceries as Tony continued to prepare their dinner. When Ziva was finished, she went to the bedroom to get changed. She heard the doorbell ring and Tony yelling out that he would get it. She listened out to try and figure out who it was but she heard a woman's voice she couldn't quite pick and Tony talking back. There was a sickening sound and Tony cried out in pain. Ziva was running to the door, her hand on her gun before she even realised she was doing it. She saw Tony on the ground and she let out a loud gasp. She flew to the ground and immediately began to put pressure on the wound.

"What the hell did you do to him?" Ziva asked the woman who she now recognised as Helen Berkeley. Helen was standing over the body with a devilish smile on her face.

"Only what he deserved," Helen answered. "Him and that bastard ex-husband of mine. This is me getting some justice for my daughter."

"This is not a justice killing. This is a revenge killing and that makes you just as bad as your husband," Ziva cried She threw her phone to Helen. "If you call an ambulance I will consider letting you leave with your life."

"I would rather die," Helen hissed and Ziva thought 'that can be arranged.'

She began to move towards Ziva. Her knife glinted and winked evilly in the light. She lifted her arm and prepared to stab Ziva who was preoccupied with keeping Tony alive but Ziva with her instincts and her training was quicker. She reached behind for her gun and fired three times. Helen fell with a 'thump' to the floor. She wasn't Ziva's concern though and she crawled past the body and grabbed her phone. She dialled the ambulance and kept pressure on Tony's wound, pleading with him to stay alive and to keep himself alive for her and not to die on her and to please just stay alive.

* * *

It's one thing coming to grips with your own mortality but coming to grips with your boyfriends is another thing entirely, Ziva realised. She came to her conclusion while sitting on a hard plastic chair in the ER waiting room of a bustling city hospital. Abby was babbling to a sombre and quiet McGee who looked torn between comforting his friend and telling her to shut-up. Ziva was almost successfully tuning her out. She was wringing her hands as she sat watching nurses and doctors sweep past. She recognised one of the nurses working on Tony and she looked at her expectantly. The nurse gave her a sympathetic look and a small shrug.

"This is ridiculous," Abby snapped. Ziva and McGee looked at her, wary and weary. "No, really. How long have we been here and how many other people have gotten here after us? They all know if they're people are okay. All we want to know is if he's going to be okay. He has to be okay, right? He's Tony. He's brave and strong and he wouldn't give up. Would he? No. He's Tony and Tony never gives up."

"Abby," Ziva said finally. She inhaled and calmed herself before speaking in a low voice. "I know you are worried but we need to let the doctors do their jobs. Just calm down. They will come to us when they are ready."

"How can you be so calm?" Abby exploded. Her eyes were red from crying but now they were fiery from anger. "The man you claim to love is lying there on a hospital bed, possibly dying, and you're telling me to calm down."

Ziva opened her mouth and then closed it again. She picked her handbag up off the seat next to her and walked away. Abby looked over at McGee with a 'what the hell was that?' expression on her face. She expected to find sympathy and understanding but McGee seemed to be siding with Ziva.

"What?" she asked.

"Do you really have to have this fight every time something happens?" he wanted to know. "It's bad enough Tony got shot without her having to deal with you."

"She could at least show some emotion," Abby muttered but she was beginning to look guilty.

"Not everybody shows emotion like you do. I don't," he pointed out. He felt Abby sink lower into her seat. He patted her knee. "It's okay. I'm sure she'll understand."

"I feel horrible," Abby sighed. She stood up and stretched. "I'm going to find her. You stay right here and don't move. Call me if you hear anything."

McGee was left sitting by himself in a row of blue chairs. Well, not quite alone, he thought as he picked up something Abby had left behind. At least he had Bert.

Ziva was standing in the bathroom looking at herself in the mirror when Abby found her. She held her hands up defensively and took a sidewards step.

"Abby, I do not want to fight right now. I am not in the mood," she stated simply.

"Do you want to yell at me?" Abby asked. She looked serious and Ziva smiled somewhat.

"We cannot keep having this fight," Ziva said. She covered her face with her hands and then removed them. "Of course I am worried about Tony. I can barely breathe. If something were to happen to him..."

"I know," Abby murmured. She walked behind Ziva and rested her chin on her shoulder. "You're scared."

"Petrified," Ziva corrected. "I am not used to feeling like this."

Abby could see the fear and worry in Ziva's eyes and it was as if a light bulb went off in her head.

"I used to think you didn't show emotion because you thought it meant you were weak," Abby said. She saw Ziva's eyes softening and she knew she was getting it. "But really it's because you don't know how you're supposed to act."

"Something like that," Ziva agreed. She knew how people were supposed to act when their boyfriends were injured but she wasn't sure how Ziva David was supposed to react. Ziva David wasn't one to make a big scene and she never had been. Abby was all about scenes, whether she did it on purpose or not. "But Abby, do you understand that this is how I react? Maybe it is not how I am supposed to act but it is just me."

"I get it, I really do," Abby sighed. She wrapped her arms around Ziva's waist and they looked at each others reflections. "I'm sorry I do this every time something happens. You never get mad at me but I always get mad at you."

"I'm sorry I do not act the way you want me too," Ziva said. Her eyes misted over and she sighed. "He is going to be okay, right?"

Her voice sounded unusually small and Abby's heart went out to her friend.

"Of course he is. He's Tony, remember?" Abby replied.

"There was so much blood," Ziva remembered. She shivered slightly and felt Abby tighten her embrace. "I really thought it was all over and now... If I lose him..."

"You aren't going to lose him," Abby said. Her voice was firm but gentle. "Because if you lose him then I lose him too. And I have no intention of losing him."

"I have never loved anybody like him," Ziva said. Abby heard it two ways. Ziva had never loved anybody who was LIKE him nor had she loved anybody LIKE she loved him.

"There is nobody like him," Abby said finally. She removed her arms from around Ziva and straightened herself up. "We should get back to McGee. Maybe there's been some news."

They travelled back to the waiting room and took in the depressing rows of blue chairs and numerous pot plants. There were two muted televisions mounted in the corners of the room playing the news. McGee had Bert sitting on his lap and he was absent-mindedly stroking his fur.

"You made a friend, Timmy," Abby said, sitting next to him.

"Are you okay?" he asked, looking between the girls.

"Fine," Ziva answered. She settled in on his other side and they began the long painful wait.

It seemed like two hours but it was only fifteen minutes later when a nurse came over to them.

"Miss David?" she asked. Ziva nodded and the nurse smiled. "You can all come through. Tony's asking for you."

"We can see him?" Abby asked.

"Of course," she said, leading them through a door and into a long ward of bed separated by curtains. She pulled the curtains back and showed them Tony who was gingerly peeling the top off a cup of orange juice.

"Would you mind?" he asked, holding the cup out.

Ziva rolled her eyes and took the cup from him. She peeled the foil off and handed it back.

"How long does he have to stay?" Abby asked.

"We want to keep him in overnight just to be on the safe side. Hasn't anyone explained anything to you?" the nurse asked. She was pretty, petite, blonde and would have been exactly Tony's type if he wasn't so utterly and obviously taken.

They all shook their heads and the nurse waved a man over who introduced himself as Doctor Garrity.

"We did an exploratory laparotomy and discovered that the knife missed all of Tony's vital organs. We've stitched him up and he's going to be just fine," Doctor Garrity explained. "It isn't necessary for him to take antibiotics but I've prescribed some anyway just as a precaution."

"Good thing NCIS insists we keep our tetanus shots up," Tony piped up.

"So we have been worried for nothing?" Ziva wondered.

"Not for nothing," Tony disagreed as they all looked at him in disbelief. "I got stabbed in the stomach."

"Tony was very lucky," Doctor Garrity said seriously. "Any higher and the blade may have punctured a lung. Any further to left and... well, you get the idea. Stab wounds are very serious and this is the best possible outcome."

"Well, I'm glad you're okay," Abby said. She plonked her arm around Tony's right side and gave him a hard squeeze. He grunted and she glared at him. "Suck it up, you big baby."

"Do you have any questions?" Doctor Garrity asked. Ziva wanted to know a few things about dressing and painkillers and how far he could move. Eventually he smiled at them. "I think you're going to have a very good nurse, Tony."

"Are you sure we can't take him home tonight?" Abby asked. She felt like she'd been very patient and she had given the hospital staff enough time with her favourite senior field agent.

"Sorry. Doctor's orders. He can probably handle some food now if you want to get him something from the cafeteria," April said. Ziva had been edging forward ever since they had reached the bed. April had seen enough bedside reunions to know that she was dying to touch Tony, to feel him under her fingers. "I can show you the way."

"Maybe in a minute," Abby said, shaking her head.

"Well, I'll be off. You aren't my only patient, you know. Good luck, Tony. I'm sure you'll be feeling better in no time," Doctor Garrity said cheerfully. He gave them all a wave and the doctor and the nurse left together.

"What happened to Helen?" Tony asked. "I was unconscious for a while there and everything else is kind of fuzzy."

"She is dead," Ziva said. She blinked a few times and then looked at the floor "It was a reflex. She was coming towards me with the knife. I had no choice."

"Hey," Tony said. Ziva's face snapped towards him and he looked at her earnestly. "You did what any of us would have done."

They shared a look and as always Abby and McGee felt as if they were trampling in on a very private moment.

"It was horrible. They didn't tell us anything and we were really worried," Abby exclaimed suddenly. She still had her arm around Tony's shoulder but at a pointed look from McGee she lifted her arm. "Are you sore? Can I get you anything?"

"Maybe we should go and get some jello or something like the nurse said," McGee suggested. He had noticed that Ziva was getting a little testy.

"But Timmy, I want to make sure Tony's okay," Abby whined.

"He's fine. We'll see him in a few minutes," McGee pressed. He whispered something into Abby's ear and she grinned.

"Sounds perfect," she said aloud

"We'll be back in a little while," McGee said.

"We will be here," Ziva replied. She mouthed 'thank you' when Abby wasn't looking and he nodded.

"I'm glad you're okay, man," McGee told Tony before he was dragged away by Abby.

"Where do you think they're going?" Tony asked. He moved slightly and grimaced. "I'm not sure I can handle anything to eat right now and if they bring me back any food, Abby will force me to eat."

"The gift shop," Ziva answered. She gave Tony a smile. "Do you want to try standing up? It might take you a little while."

"In a second. I want you to come here first," he said. She looked at him and her eyes filled with tears.

"I am so glad you are okay," Ziva sighed. She moved to his side and leaned very carefully into him. She pressed a kiss to his forehead. "I was so worried."

"No need to be worried," he whispered, but he sounded chuffed. "I'm okay."

"You looked like you were dead, Tony. There was so much blood and you were in so much pain," she replied.

"I regained consciousness just after they put me into the ambulance," he said. "I was conscious the whole way to the hospital and until they put me under anaesthesia. Did they tell you I was in surgery?"

"Yes but I did not get here straight away so I did not know how long you had been in theatre. The police had some questions to ask," Ziva explained. She stroked his cheek and smiled when he moved his head to kiss her finger. "I love you so much."

"I love you too," he said. He looked up at her and she bent down to kiss him. When they pulled apart he gave her a rueful smile and said, "I'm sorry I scared you."

"If you ever do it again, I will kill you myself," she replied. She was serious and he could see it in her eyes but soon they softened into a smile and she kissed him again. "At least it is all over for good now."

"La Grenouille?" Tony wanted to know.

"He is dead too. Helen killed him before she came for you. Gibbs told me it was not a pretty sight," Ziva answered. She pressed her lips to Tony's temple and ran her fingers through his hair. "I just want you to remember that this is not your fault. You did not cause all these deaths. Even Jenny did not cause them. Rene Benoit was an evil man and this might have happened anyway."

"Might have," Tony sighed. He looked at Ziva gratefully. "I made my peace with Jeanne long ago. Anything that happened after that isn't on my hands so I don't blame myself. But thank you."

"I wish you could come home tonight. Our bed is going to be so lonely without you," Ziva said.

"I'm looking forward to a night without your snoring," Tony disagreed. Ziva went to shove him but she stopped. Tony laughed at her but he wasn't laughing when she Gibbs slapped him. "I can't believe you hit an invalid."

"Enough," she parried back. "You are just fine. Doctor Garrity even said so."

McGee and Abby came back to the room. Abby poked her head into the room and grinned in triumph.

"Oh good, you're awake and clothed," she said. "Come in, Timmy."

"What did you think we were going to do? Tony is injured," Ziva asked. "Actually, do not answer that."

"Answer it, Abby. Do it. I dare ya," Tony grinned.

"We just came to bring you presents," Abby said after a moment of contemplation. She pulled out a magazine, a teddy bear with a bandaged arm, a mug, a chocolate bar and a bunch of flowers with a brightly coloured balloon. "I bought all the essentials for a stay in hospital."

McGee clearly thought they'd gone overboard but Abby, who did nothing by halves, was quite proud of herself.

"I told her you didn't need quite so much for an overnight stay but she insisted," McGee cut in.

"I disagree. I think it's not enough," Abby replied.

The four of them bantered until two orderlies and a nurse came to move Tony to a different room. With a last hug from Abby, a handshake from McGee and one last kiss from Ziva, Tony was left alone in a hospital room with only memories to keep him company.

* * *

Ziva let herself into the house and went straight to their bedroom. She dropped her handbag on the floor and flopped onto the bed. She rolled over so she was on Tony's side of the bed and she buried her nose into the pillow. They had changed the bed that morning and she felt cheated. When she sniffed she got the clean smell of freesias, not Tony's mixture of aftershave and sweat. She lay face down on the bed for awhile. Eventually she groaned and rolled off the bed. She changed into her pyjamas, washed her face, brushed her teeth then made her way back to the bed. She climbed into her side and pressed her face into the cool fabric of the pillowcase. She expected sleep to elude her. The apartment was too quiet and too still and she wasn't used to sleeping on her own but before she knew it, her eyes were blinking awake and it was daylight. Time to get Tony.

* * *

Tony was in high spirits when she turned up. Typically he had managed to charm all the staff in the time between wake-up time and breakfast. When Ziva walked into his room after signing his release forms, April was chatting to him and she could see that someone had given him extra pudding and extra orange juice.

"My ninja," Tony smiled when he saw her. She eyed him suspiciously.

"You are in very good spirits for someone who got stabbed last night," she noted. She looked at April. "Was he given morphine by any chance?"

"Just a little," April replied. She frowned. "He's not allergic is he because his chart didn't say anything about it and we gave it to him a few hours ago so it should have showed up by now."

"Not allergic but it makes him a little loopy. Did you not notice?" Ziva asked.

"Oh. That. So many of our patients go crazy on pain meds that we barely notice any more," April answered. She yawned and then apologised. "Sorry, I'm at the end of a double-shift. I just wanted to come and sign Tony out myself. We'll be sorry to see him go. He's been quite entertaining. I guess that makes sense now."

"Try living with him," Ziva replied. "How is he this morning, despite the loopiness?"

"He's fine. He doing really well in fact," April said. "He stood up before and he's eating solids. Now I am going to check the release forms so you can get out of here."

"Thanks April May June July," Tony crowed from the bed.

"I might leave him here," Ziva said rolling her eyes.

April laughed and swept from the room. Even after a double shift she was incredibly perky. Ziva walked over to Tony and shook her head at him.

"I was not kidding. I am going to leave you here until all the medicine is out of your system," she sighed.

"You are kidding, my ninja. You missed me too much. I can see it in your eyes," he replied. "Or maybe I can see my reflection in your eyes but its basically the same thing."

She helped him change into a clean shirt, being careful of his bandaged torso. He had been wearing a hospital gown over his track pants and while Tony may have found it comfortable, it was not a good look. She pressed her lips to his cheek and he reached down to take her hand.

"Thank you," he said, in a moment of clarity.

"Of course," she replied.

"Okay, paperwork is all done and you are free to go," April said coming into the room. She wheeled a wheelchair over to the bed and gave them a big grin. "Now, I know you're going to be all macho but-"

"Can I race someone?" Tony interrupted her.

"It's against hospital policy," April said. She looked at Ziva who was now bemused.

"You are such a big child," she tutted. "Honestly, it is like you never grew up."

April and Ziva helped Tony into the wheelchair. Ziva carefully placed all the things Abby had given him on his lap and they began the slow meander back to the car. April left them at the front door and Ziva thanked her profusely for taking such good care of her Tony.

"I can't live without him," Ziva said, lowering her voice so Tony couldn't heard.

"I noticed," April replied. She patted Ziva's shoulder. "Good luck with everything."

"You too," Ziva smiled. She turned her attention back to Tony. "Come on. It is only a short walk to the car and I think you can handle it..."

April stood at the door with the empty wheelchair and watched Ziva help Tony to their car. Every now and then the hospital staff saw a couple that were so perfect for each other it blew them all away. Tony and Ziva were one of those couples and April knew that whatever happened around them, Tony and Ziva would stay solid. They had too or people like herself would lose faith in love.

* * *

His recovery took longer than expected and despite his brave words, the guilt still lived behind his eyes. But little by little, moment by moment, day by day he got his strength back and the guilt receded. With Ziva by his side, Tony took every day as it came. Finally he was back on top of his game and cleared for fieldwork again. It had been almost four weeks of desk duty. Phone calls and filing were not his cup of tea even if he had displayed a kind of panache for them. The hardest thing was watching Ziva and McGee go off together to question, apprehend or arrest a suspect or to bag, tag and photograph a crime scene while he was stuck on his spinning chair behind his desk.

He spent a lot of time on ibeatyou. com that month.

But one day he woke up feeling better than he had in ages. There was no pain and there, finally, was no guilt. He had finally come to the realisation that he may have killed Jeanne but what Helen and La Grenouille did after that was out of his hands. He had not caused La Grenouille's death any more than he had caused Helen's. Even Ziva wasn't to blame. She had been protecting herself and protecting him and everyday he thanked God for her. He reached over and stroked a still sleeping Ziva's hair. She had forfeited her run this morning and he was glad. He continued to stroke her hair until she stirred. She yawned and rolled over to face him.

"Good morning," she murmured, her eyes still half closed.

"Morning," he replied. He stretched over and gave her a long, deep kiss.

"What was that for?" she asked when he pulled away.

"To say thank you," he answered. "If it weren't for you I'd still be a self-loathing, guilt-ridden man who probably doesn't shave. Not a good look for me."

"If it weren't for me, you'd be dead," she corrected him, somehow keeping her voice light. "And I do not know. You look alright with a little bit of stubble."

"I thought you said it scratches your cheek when I kiss you," Tony complained.

"It does but it is kind of sexy," she replied. She stretched and wriggled closer to him. "Can I have another kiss please?"

"You're kind of demanding this morning," he sighed but he quickly agreed and gave her another kiss.

"Would it be a stretch to ask for breakfast?" Ziva asked.

"In bed?" he asked, confused. Ziva hated eating in bed. One, she didn't see the point when clearly tables were made for eating off and two, she hated having crumbs in bed.

"No," she said rolling her eyes. "I want you to make me breakfast while I shower and get changed. I have things to do today."

"I wanted to spend the day in bed," Tony groaned.

"We can spend the afternoon in bed," Ziva suggested. "If you are a good boy and do exactly as I say."

"Fine," Tony grumbled. He went out into the kitchen and fried some eggs, tomatoes and mushrooms in one pan and in a separate pan, bacon for himself.

"Smells good," Ziva said when she came into the kitchen, freshly showered. She kissed him on the cheek and took a plate from him. He joined her at the kitchen table.

"It's good, isn't it?" he asked, after a few bites. Ziva was chewing but she quirked an eyebrow at him. "Breakfast, I mean. Breakfast is good."

"Fishing for compliments?" Ziva asked. "The eggs are a little over-cooked and the mushrooms under-cooked if you want my opinion."

"You could've just agreed with me," Tony muttered. He heard Ziva's giggle and he smiled. "You played me."

"Not very well it seems," she replied. She finished her plate and when he was done she took their empty plates to the sink.

Tony sat at the table and watched her wash up. It was still a relief to know that he didn't have to worry about bullets flying through the glass (now bullet-resistant glass at Abby's insistence) precariously close to either of them. Ziva looked so beautiful ensconced in her domestic duties. He stood up and walked behind her. As he often did he slid his arms around her waist and she relaxed against him.

"Have I told you I love you today?" he whispered into her ear. She swallowed hard and shook her head.

"Not today."

"I love you," he whispered.

"Love you too. Now will you leave me alone? These dishes won't watch themselves," she murmured.

"Leave the dishes," he suggested.

"No," she replied but she didn't struggle when he pulled her away from the sink. He twisted her around to kiss her and she placed her wet hands on his chest as they kissed. They pulled away after a time and Ziva smirked. "Now you have to go change your shirt."

"It was worth it," he replied.

And it was because every kiss from Ziva reminded him that he was not alone, she was on his side and that she always believed in him.


End file.
